THE INTADEE8- 



AND 



OTHER STORIES 



BY 



COUNT LYOF N. TOLSTOI 



TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN 



BY 



NATHAN HASKELL DOLE 




NEW YORK 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

13 AsTOR Place 



PRESERVATION 
COPY ADDED 
ORIGINAL TO BE 
RETAINED 

M 2 I l^V4 




Copyright, 1887, 
By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 



RAND AVERV COMPANY, 

ELECTROTYPERS AND PRINTERS, 

BOSTON, MASS. 






COE"TEE"TS. 



FAQB 

The Invaders 1 

The Wood-cutting Expedition 44 

An Old Acquaintance .'....-. 105 

Lost on the Steppe; or, The Snowstorm .... 141 

polikushka 189 

KnoLSTOMfR: A Story op a Horse 282 




THE INVADEES.' 



A VOLUNTEER'S NARRATIVE. 



On the 24th of July, Captain Khlopof in epaulets 
and cap — a style of dress in which I had not seen him 
since my arrival in the Caucasus — entered the low- 
door of my earth-hut. 

*' I'm just from the colonel's," he said in reply to 
my questioning look; "to-morrow our battalion is 
to move." 

"Where?" I asked. 

"To N . The troops have been ordered to 

muster at that place." 

" And probably some expedition will be made from 
there?" 

"Of course." 

" In what direction, think you? " 

" I don't think. I tell you all I know. Last night 
a Tatar from the general came galloping up, — brought 
orders for the battalion to march, taking two days' 
rations. But whither, why, how long, isn't for them 
to ask. Orders are to go — that's enough." 

" Still, if they are going to take only two days* ra- 
tions, it's likely the army will not stay longer." 

* Nahtg (pronounced Na-be-ukh), the Invasion or Raid. 



2 THE INVADERS, 

"That's no argument at all.'* 

" And how is that? " I asked with astonishment. 

"This is the way of it: When they went against 
Dargi they took a week's rations, but they spent al- 
most a month." 

" And can I go with you? " I asked, after a shoi-t 
silence. 

"Yes, you can go; but my advice is — better not. 
Why run the risk ? " 

" No, allow me to disregard your advice. I have 
been spending a whole month here for this very pur- 
pose, — of having a chance to see action, — and you 
want me to let it have the go-by ! " 

" All right, come with us ; only isn't it true that it 
would be better for you to stay behind ? You could 
wait for us here, you could go hunting. But as to us, 
— God knows what will become of us ! . . . And that 
would be first-rate," he said in such a convincing tone 
that it seemed to me at the first moment that it would 
actually be first-rate. Nevertheless, I said resolutely 
that I wouldn't stay behind for any thing. 

"And what have you to see there?" said the cap- 
tain, still trying to dissuade me. "If you want to 
learn how battles are fought, read Mikhailovski Dani- 
levski's ' Description of War,' a charming book ; there 
it's all admirably described, — where every corps 
stands, and how battles are fought." 

" On the contrary, that does not interest me,'' I 
replied. 

" Well, now, how is this? It simply means that you 
want to see how men kill each other, doesn't it? . . . 
Here in 1832 there was a man like yourself, not in the 
regular service, — a Spaniard, I think he was. He 
went on two expeditions with us, . . . in a blue mantle 



THE INVADERS. 3 

or something of the sort, and so the young fellow 
was killed. Here, bdtiushka, one is not surprised at 
any thing." 

Ashamed as I was at the captain's manifest dis- 
approbation of my project, 1 did not attempt to argue 
him down. 

" Well, he was brave, wasn't he? " 

" God knows as to that. lie always used to ride at 
the front. Wherever there was firing, there he was." 

'' So he must have been brave, then," said I. 

"No, that doesn't signify bravery, — his putting 
himself where he wasn't called." 

'' What do you call bravery, then? " 

'' Bravery, bravery? " repeated the captain with the 
expression of a man to whom such a question presents 
itself for the first time. "A brave man is one who 
conducts himself as he ought," said he after a brief 
consideration. 

I remembered that Plato defined bravery as the 
knowledge of what one ought and what one ought not 
to fear ; and in spite of the triteness and obscurity in 
the terminology of the captain's definition, I thought 
that the fundamental conception of both was not so 
unlike as might at first sight appear, and that the 
captain's definition was even more correct than the 
Greek philosopher's, for the reason, that, if he could 
have expressed himself as Plato did, he would in all 
p. ybability have said that that man is brave who fears 
onl}' what he ought to fear and not what there is no 
need of fearing. 

I was anxious to explain my thought to the captain. 

'' Yes," I said, " it seems to me that in every peril 
there is an alternative, and the alternative adopted 
under the influence of, say, the sentiment of duty, is 



4 • THE INVADERS. 

braver}", but the alternative adopted under the influ- 
ence of a lower sentiment is cowardice ; therefore it 
is impossible to call a man brave wlio risks his life out 
of vanity or curiosity or greediness, and, vice versa., the 
man who under the influence of the virtuous sentiment 
of family obligation, or simply from conviction, avoids 
peril, cannot be called a coward." 

The captain looked at me with a queer sort of 
expression while I was talking. 

" Well, now, I don't know how to reason this out 
with you," said he, filling his pipe, ''but we have 
with us a junker, and he likes to philosophize. You 
talk with him. He also writes poetry." 

I had onl}' become intimate with tlie captain in the 
Caucasus, but I had known him before in Russia. 
His motlier, Marya Iv^novna Khlopova, the owner of 
a small landed estate, lives about two versts ^ from my 
home. Before I went to the Caucasus I visited her. 
The old lady was greatty delighted that I was going 
to see her Pashenka ^ (thus she called the old gray- 
haired captain), and, like a living letter, could tell him 
about her circumstances and give him a little message. 
Having made me eat my fill of a glorious pie and roast 
chicken, INIarya Ivanovna went to her sleeping-room 
and came back with a rather large black relic-bag,^ to 
which was attached some kind of silken ribbon. 

'' Here is this image of our Mother-Intercessor from 
the September festival," she said, kissing the picture 
of the divine Mother attached to the cross, and putting 
it into my hand. '' Please give it to him, bdtiushka. 
You see, when he went to the Kaikaz, I had a Te Deum 

1 One and a third miles. 

2 An affectionate diminished diminutive : Pavel (Paul), Pasha, Pashenlia. 

3 Iddanka, the bag containing sacred things worn by the pious, together 
# with the baptismal cross. 



THE INVADERS. 5 

sung, and made a vow, that if he should be safe and 
sound, I would order this image of the divine Mother. 
And here it is seventeen years that the Mdtuslika and 
the saints have had him in their keeping ; not once has 
he been wounded, and what battles he has been in, as 
it seems ! . . . When Mikhdilo, who was with him, told 
me about it, my hair actually stood on end. You see, 
all that I know about him I have to hear from others ; 
he never writes me any thing about his doings, my 
dove,^ — he is afraid of frightening me. " 

(I had already heard in the Caucasus, but not from 
the captain himself, that he had been severely wounded 
four times ; and, as was to be expected, he had not 
written his mother about his wounds any more than 
about his campaigns.) 

" Now let him wear this holy image," she continued. 
" I bless him with it. The most holy Intercessor pro- 
tect him, especially in battle may she always look after 
him ! And so tell him, my dear friend,^ that thy 
mother gave thee this message." 

I promised faithfully to fulfil her commission. 

"I know you will be fond of him, of my Pdshen- 
ka," the old lady contmued, — '' he is such a splendid 
fellow ! Would 3'ou believe me, not a year goes by 
without his sending me money, and he also helps 
Annu.shka my daughter, and all from his wages alone. 
Truly I shall always thank God," she concluded with 
tears m her ej^es, "that he has given me such a child." 

" Does he write 3'ou often? " I asked. 

"Rarely, bdtiushka^ — not more than once a 3'ear ; 
and sometimes when he sends money he writes a little 
word, and sometimes he doesn't. ' If I don't write 
you, mdmenka,* he says, ' it means that I'm alive and 

1 golubchik. * mo'i bdtiushka. 



6 THE INVADERS. 

well; but if any thing should happen, — which God 
forbid, — then they will write you for nie.' " 

When I gave the captain his mother's gift (it was 
in my room) , he asked me for some wrapping-paper, 
carefully tied it up, and put it away. I gave him many 
details of his mother's life : the captain was silent. 
When I had finished, he went into a corner, and took a 
very long time in filling his pipe. 

"Yes, she's a fine old lady,'* said he from the 
corner, in a rather choked voice: ''God grant that 
we may meet again !'* 

Great love and grief were expressed in these simple 
words. 

" Why do you serve here? " I asked. 

''Have to serve," he replied with decision. "And 
double pay means a good deal for our brother, who is 
a poor man.'* 

The captain lived economically ; he did not play 
cards, he rarely drank to excess, and he smoked ordi- 
nary tobacco, which from some inexplicable reason he 
did not call by its usual name,^ but sambrotalicheski 
tabdk. The captain had pleased me even before this. 
He had one of those simple, calm Russian faces, and 
looked you straight in the eye agreeably and easily. 
But after this conversation I felt a genuine respect for 
him. 

1 tiuUHn. 



THE INVADERS. 



II. 



At four o'clock on the morning of the next day, the 
captain came riding np to my door. He had on an 
old well-worn coat without epaulets, wide Lesghian 
trousers, a round white Circassian cap, with drooping 
lambskin dyed yellow, and an ugly-looking Asiatic 
sabre across his shoulder. The little white horse ^ on 
which he rode came with head down, and mincing 
gait, and kept switching l^s slender tail. In spite of 
the fact that the good captain's figure was neither verr 
warlike nor very handsome, yet there was in it such 
an expression of good-will toward every one around 
him, that it inspired involuntary respect. 

I did not keep him waiting a minute, but immedi- 
ately mounted, and we rode off together from the 
gate of the fortress. 

The battalion was already two hundred sazJiens^ 
ahead of us, and had the appearance of some black, 
solid body in motion. It was possible to make out 
that it was infantry, only from the circumstance that 
while the bayonets appeared like long, dense needles, 
occasionally there came to the ear the sounds of a 
soldier's song, the drum, and a charming tenor, the 
leader of the sixth compau}', — a song which I had 
more than once enjoyed at the fort. 

The road ran through the midst of a deep, wide 
ravine, or balka as it is called in the Caucasian dialect, 

> mashtak in the Caucasian dialect. ' Fourteen hundred feet. 



8 TEE INVADERS. 

along the banks of a small river, which at this time 
Vfas playing, that is, was having a freshet. Flocks of 
wild pigeons hovered around it, now settling on the 
rocky shore, now wheeling about in mid-air in swift 
circles and disappearing from sight. 

The sun was not yet visible, but the summit of the 
balka on the right began to grow luminous. The gi'ay 
and white colored crags, the greenish-yellow moss wet 
with dew, the clumps of different kinds of wild thorn,' 
stood out extraordinarily distinct and rotund in the 
pellucid golden light of the sunrise. 

On the other hand, the ravine, hidden in thick mist 
which rolled up like smoke in varying volumes, was 
damp, and dark, and gave the impression of an in- 
distinguishable mixture of colors — pale lilac, almost 
purple, dark green, and white. 

Directly in front of us, against the dark blue of the 
horizon, with startling distinctness appeared the daz- 
zling white, silent masses of the snow-capped mountains 
with their marvellous shadows and outlines exquisite 
even in the smallest details. Crickets, grasshoppers, 
and a thousand other insects, were awake in the tall 
grass, and filled the air with their sharp, incessant clat- 
ter: it seemed as though a numberless multitude of 
tiny bells were jingling in our very ears. The atmo- 
sphere was alive with waters, with foliage, with mist ; 
in a word, had all the life of a beautiful early summer 
morning. 

The captain struck a light, and began to puff at his 
pipe ; the fragrance of sambrotalicheski tabdk and of 
the punk struck me as extremely pleasant. 

We rode along the side of the road so as to over- 
lake the infantry as quickly as possible. The captain 

1 Paliurus, box-thorn, aud karachag. 



THE INVADERS. 9 

seemed more serious than usual ; he did not take his 
Daghestan pipe from his mouth, and at every step he 
dug his heels into his horse's legs as the little beast, 
capering from one side to the other, laid out a scarcely 
noticeable dark green track through the damp, tall 
grass. Up from under his very feet, with its shrill cry,^ 
and that drumming of the wings that is so sure to 
startle the huntsman in spite of himself, flew the pheas- 
ant, and slowly winged its flight on high. The captain 
paid him not the slightest attention. 

We had almost overtaken the battalion, when behind 
us was heard the sound of a galloping horse, and in 
an instant there rode by us a very handsome young 
fellow in an ofl3cer*s coat, and a tall white Circassian 
cap. 2 As he caught up with us he smiled, bowed to 
the captain, and waved his whip. ... I only had time 
to notice that he sat in the saddle and held the bridle 
with peculiar grace, and that he had beautiful dark 
eyes, a finely cut nose, and a mustache just beginning 
to grow. I was particularly attracted by the way in 
which he could not help smiling, as if to impress it 
upon us that we were friends of his. If by nothing 
else than his smile, one would have known that he was 
still very young. 

''And now where is he going?" grumbled the cap- 
tain with a look of dissatisfaction, not taking his pipe 
from his mouth. 

''Who is that?" I asked. 

" Ensign Aldnin, a subaltern officer of my company. 
. . . Only last month he came from the School of 
Cadets." 

" This is the first time that he is going into action, 
I suppose?" said I. 

1 tordokan'yi. * papdkha* 



10 TE^ INVADERS. 

"And so he is overjoyed," replied the captain 
thoughtfully, shaking his head ; " it's youth." 

" And why shouldn't he be glad? I can see that for 
a young officer this must be very interesting." 

The captain said nothing for two minutes. 

"And that's why I say 'it's youth,' " he continued 
in a deep tone. "What is there to rejoice in, when 
there's nothing to see? Here when one goes often, 
one doesn't find an}" pleasure in it. Here, let us sup- 
pose there are twenty of us officers going: some of 
us will be either killed or wounded ; that's likely. To- 
day my turn, to-morrow his, the next day somebody 
else's. So what is there to rejoice in? " 



THE INVADERS. 11 



III. 



Scarcely had the bright sun risen above the moun- 
tains, and begun to shine into the valley where we were 
riding, when the undulating clouds of mist scattered, 
and it grew warm. The soldiers with guns and knap- 
sacks on their backs marched slowly along the dust}' 
road. In the ranks were frequently heard Malo-Russian 
dialogues and laughter. A few old soldiers in white 
linen coats — for the most part non-commissioned 
officers — marched along the roadside with their i)ipes, 
engaged in earnest conversation. The triple rows of 
heavily laden wagons advanced step by step, and raised 
a thick dust, which hung motionless. 

The mounted officers rode in advance; a few jig- 
gited, as they say in the Caucasus ; ^ that is, applying 
the whip to their hoi'ses, they spurred them on to make 
four or five leaps, and then reined them in suddenly, 
pulling the head back. Others listened to the song- 
singers, who notwithstanding the heat and the oppres- 
sive air indefatigably tuned up one song after another. 

A hundred sazhens in advance of the infantry, on a 
great white horse, surrounded by mounted Tatars, rode 
a tall, handsome officer in Asiatic costume, known to 
the regiment as a man of reckless valor, one who cuts 
any one straight m the eyes ! ^ He wore a black Tatar 

1 jigit or djigit in the Kumiiita dialect siguifies yaliant. The Rusfiiane 
make from it Uie verb iigitovat. 

2 That is, liiiown for telliug the plain truth 



12 THE INVADERS. 

half-coat or beshmet trimmed with silver braid, similar 
trousers, new leggings ^ closely laced with cliirazui as 
they call galloons in the Caucasus, and a tall, yellow 
Cherkessian cap worn jauntily on the back of his head. 
On his breast and back were silver lacings. His pow- 
der-flask and pistol were hung at his back ; another 
pistol, and a dagger in a silver sheath, depended from 
his belt. Besides all this was buckled on a sabre in a 
red morocco sheath adorned with silver ; and over the 
shoulder hung his musket in a black case. 

By his garb, his carriage, his manner, and indeed by 
every motion, it was manifest that his ambition was to 
ape the Tatars. He was just saying something, in a 
language that I did not understand, to the Tatars who 
rode with him ; but from the doubtful, mocking glances 
which these latter gave each other, I came to the con- 
clusion that they did not understand him either. 

This was one of our young officers of the dare-devil, 
jigit order, who get themselves up a la Marlinski and 
Lermontof . These men look upon the Caucasus, as it 
were, through the prism of the '^ Heroes of our Time," 
Mulla-Nurof ^ and others, and in all their activities are 
directed not by their own inclinations but by the ex- 
ample of these models. 
\( This lieutenant, for instance, was very likely fond 
of the societ}^ of well-bred women and men of impor- 
tance, generals, colonels, adjutants, — I may even go 
so far as to believe that he was very fond of this so- 
ciety, because he was in the highest degree vainglori- 
ous, — but he considered it his unfailing duty to show 
his rough side to all important people, although he 
offended them always more or less ; and when any lady 
made her appearance at the fortress, then he considered 

^ cAuviaki. * The uame of a character in one of Marliaski'B novels. 



\>5^JF0RN.' 



THE INVADERS. 13 

it his duty to ride by her windows with his cronies, or 
kunaki as they are called in the dialect of the Cauca- 
sus, dressed in a red shirt and nothing but chuviaki on 
his bare legs, and shouting and swearing at the top of 
his voice — but all this not only with the desire to 
insult her, but also to show her what handsome white 
legs he had, and how easy it would be to fall in love 
with him if only he himself were willing. Or he often 
went by at night with two or three friendly Tatars to 
the mountains into ambush by the road so as to take 
by surprise and kill hostile Tatars coming along ; and 
though more than once his heart told him that there 
was nothing brave in such a deed, yet he felt himself 
under obligations to inflict suffering upon people in 
whom he thought that he was disappointed, and whom 
he affected to hate and despise. He always carried 
two things, — an immense holy image around his neck, 
and a dagger above his shirt. He never took them 
off, but even went to bed with them. He firmly be- 
lieved that enemies surrounded him. It was his greatest 
delight to argue that he was under obligations to wreak 
vengeance on some one and wash out insults in blood. 
He was persuaded that spite, vengeance, and hatred of 
the human race were the highest and most poetical 
of feelings. But his mistress, — a Circassian girl i.1 
course, — whom I happened afterwards to meet, said 
that he was the mildest and gentlest of men, and that 
every evening he wrote in his gloomy diary, cast up 
his accounts on ruled paper, and got on his knees to 
say his prayers. And how much suffering he endured, 
to seem to himself only what he desired to be, because 
his comrades and the soldiers could not comprehend 
him as he desired ! 

Oqcc, in one of his nocturnal expeditions with his 



14 THE INVADERS. 

Tatar friends, it happened that he put a bullet into the 
leg of a hostile Tchetchenets, and took him prisoner. 
This Tchetchenets for seven weeks thereafter lived 
with the lieutenant ; the lieutenant dressed his wound, 
waited.on him as though he were his nearest friend, and 
when he was cured sent him home with gifts. After- 
wards, during an expedition when the lieutenant was 
retreating from the post, having been repulsed by the 
enemy, he heard some one call him by name, and his 
wounded kundk strode out from among the hostile 
Tatars, and by signs asked him to do the same. The 
lieutenant went to meet his kundk, and shook hands 
with him. The mountaineers stood at some little dis- 
tance, and refrained from firing ; but, as soon as the 
lieutenant turned his horse k) go back, several shot at 
him, and one bullet grazed the small of his back. 

Another time I myself saw a fire break out by night 
in the fortress, and two companies of soldiers were 
detailed to put it out. Amid the crowd, lighted up by 
the ruddy glare of the fire, suddenly appeared the tall 
form of the man on a coal-black horse. He forced his 
■wa}' through the crowd, and rode straight to the fire. 
As soon as he came near, the lieutenant leaped from 
his horse, and hastened into the house, which was all in 
flames on one side. At the end of five minutes he 
emerged with singed hair and burned sleeves, carrying 
in his arms two doves which he had rescued from the 
flames. 

His name was Rosenkranz ; but he often spoke of 
his ancestry, traced it back to the Varangians/ and 
clearly showed that he and his forefathers were genuine 
Russians. 



THE INVADERS. 15 



IV. 



The sun had travelled half its course, and was pour- 
ing down through the glowing atmosphere its fierce rays 
upon the parched earth. The dark blue sky was abso- 
lutely clear ; only the bases of the snow-capped moun- 
tains began to clothe themselves in pale lilac clouds. 
The motionless atmosphere seemed to be full of some 
impalpable dust ; it became intolerably hot. 

When the army came to a small brook that had 
overflowed half the road, a halt was called. The 
soldiers, stacking their arms, plunged into the stream. 
The commander of the battalion sat down in the shade, 
on a drum, and, showing by his broad countenance 
the degree of his rank, made ready, in companj- with 
a few officers, to take lunch. The captain lay on the 
grass under the company's transport- wagon ; the gallant 
lieutenant Rosenkranz and some other young officers, 
spreading out their Caucasian mantles, or burki^ threw 
themselves down, and began to carouse as was manifest 
by the flasks and bottles scattered around them and by 
the extraordinary liveliness of their singers, who, 
standing in a half-circle behind them, gave an accom- 
paniment to the Caucasian dance-song sung by a 
Lesghian girl : — 

Sharayl resolved to make a league 

In the years gone by, 
Trai-rai, rattat-tai, 

In the years gone by. 



16 THE INVADERS. 

Among these oflScers was also the young ensign who 
had passed us in the morning. He was very enter- 
taining : his eyes gleamed, his tongue never grew 
weary. He wanted to greet every one, and show his 
good- will to them all. Poor lad! he did not. know 
that in acting this way he might be ridiculous, that 
his frankness and the gentleness which he showed to 
every one might win for him, not the love which he so 
much desired, but ridicule ; he did not know this 
either, that when at last, thoroughly heated, he threw 
himself down on his burka, and leaned his head on his 
hand, letting his thick black curls fall over, he was a 
very picture of beauty. 

Two officers crouched under a wagon, and were 
playing cards on a hamper. 

I listened with curiosity to the talk of the soldiers 
and officers, and attentively watched the expression of 
their faces ; but, to tell the truth, in not one could I 
discover a shadow of that anxiety which I myself felt ; 
jokes, laughter, anecdotes, expressed the universal 
carelessness, and indifference to the coming peril. 
How impossible to suppose that it was not fated for 
some never again to pass that road ! 



THE INVADERS. 17 



At seven o'clock in the evening, dusty and weary, 

we entered the wide, fortified gate of Fort N . 

The sun was setting, and shed oblique rosy ra^'s over 
the picturesque batteries and lofty-walled gardens that 
surrounded the fortress, over the fields yellow for the 
harvest, and over the white clouds which, gathering 
around the snow-capped mountains, simulated their 
shapes, and formed a chain no less wonderful and 
beauteous. A young half moon, like a translucent 
cloud, shone above the horizon. In the native village 
^or aid^ situated near the gate, a Tatar on the roof of a 
hut was calling the faithful to prayer. The singers 
broke out with new zeal and energy. 

After resting and making my toilet I set out to call 
upon an adjutant who was an acquaintance of mine, 
to ask him to make my intention known to the general. 
On the way from the suburb where I was quartered, I 
chanced to see a most unexpected spectacle in the fort- 
ress of N . I was overtaken by a handsome two- 
seated vehicle in which I saw a stylish bonnet, and 
heard French spoken. From the open window of the 
commandant's house came floating the sounds of some 
"Lizanka" or " Kdtenka " polka played upon a 
wretched piano, out of tune. In the tavern which I 
was passing were sitting a number of clerks over their 
glasses of wine, with cigarettes in their hands, and I 
overheard one saying to another, — 



IS THE INVADERS. 

" Excuse me, but taking politics into consideration, 
Mdrya Grigor'yevna is our first lady." 

A humpbacked Jew of sickly countenance, dressed 
in a dilapidated coat, was creeping along with a shrill, 
broken-down hand-organ ; and over the whole suburb 
echoed the sounds of the finale of " Lucia." 

Two women in rustling dresses, with silk kerchiefs 
around their necks and bright-colored sun-shades in 
their hands, hastened past me on the plank sidewalk. 
Two girls, one in pink, the other in a blue dress, with 
uncovered heads, were standing on the terrace of a 
small house, and affectedly laughing with the obvious 
intention of attracting the notice of some passing 
officers. Officers in new coats, white gloves, and 
glistening epaulets, were parading up and down the, 
streets and boulevards. 

I found my acquaintance on the lower floor of the 
general's house. I had scarcely had time to explain 
to him my desire, and have his assurance that it could 
most likely be gratified, when the handsome carriage, 
which I had before seen, rattled past the window 
where I was sitting. From the carriage descended a 
tall, slender man, in uniform of the infantry service 
and major's epaulets, and came up to the general's 
rooms. 

" Akh! pardon nTe, I beg of you," said the adjutant, 
rising from his place : " it's absolutely necessary that 
I tell the oreneral." 

" Who is it that just came? " I asked. 

"The countess," he replied, and donning his uni- 
form coat hastened up-stairs. 

In the course of a few minutes there appeared on 
the steps a short but very handsome man in a coat 
without epaulets, and a white cross in his button-hole. 



THE INVADERS. 19 

Behind him came the major, the adjutant, and two 
other officers. 

In his carriage, his voice, in all his motions, the gen- 
eral showed that he had a very keen appreciation of 
his high importance. 

'''-Bon soir, Madame la Comtesse,'' lie said, extend- 
ing his hand through the carriage window. 

A dainty little hand i-n dog-skin glove took his hand, 
and a pretty, smiling little visage under a yellow 
bonnet appeared in the window. 

From the conversation which lasted several minutes, 
I only heard, as I went by, the general saying in 
French with a smile, — 

. '' Ypu know that I have vowed to fight the infidels ; 
beware of becoming one ! " 

A laugh rang from the carriage. 

"• Adieu done, clier general.''* 

^' N'on, d, revoii\^' said the general, returning to the 
steps of the staircase; "don't forget that I have 
invited myself for to-morrow evening." 

The carriage drove away. 

" Here is a man," said I to myself as \ went home, 
" who has every thing that Russians strive after, — 
rank, wealth, society, — and this man, before a battle 
the outcome of which God only knows, jests with a 
pretty little woman, and promises to drink tea with her 
on the next day, just as though he had met her at a 
ball!" 

There at that adjutant's I became acquainted with 
a man who still more surprised me ; it was the young 
lieutenant of the K. regiment, who was distinguished 
for his almost feminine mildness and cowardice. He 
came to the adjutant to pour out his peevishness and 
ill humor against those men who, he thought, were 



20 THE INVADERS. 

intriguing against him to keep him from taking part in 
the matter in hand. 

He declared that it was hateful to be treated so, 
that it was not doing as comrades ought, that he would 
remember him, and so forth. 

As soon as I saw the expression of his face, as 
soon as I heard the sound of his voice, I could not 
escape the conviction that he was not only not putting 
it on, but was deeply stirred and hurt because he was 
not allowed to go against the Cherkess, and expose 
himself to their fire : he was as much hurt as a child 
is hurt who is unjustly punished. I could not under- 
stand it at ail. 



TIIK INVADERS. 21 



VI. 



At ten o'clock in the evening the troops were ordered 
to march. At half-past nine I mounted my horse, and 
started off to find the general ; but on reflecting that 
he and his adjutant must be busy, I remained in the 
street, and, tying my horse to a fence, sat down on the 
terrace to wait until the general sliould come. 

The heat and glare of the day had already vanished 
in the fresh night air ; and the obscure light of the 
young moon, which, infolding around itself a pale 
gleaming halo against the dark blue of the starry sky, 
was beginning to decline. Lights shone in the win- 
dows of the houses and in the chinks of the earth huts. 
The gracefully proportioned poplars in the gardens, 
standing out against the horizon from behind the earth 
huts, whose reed-thatched roofs gleamed pale in the 
moonlight, seemed still taller and blacker. 

The long shadows of the houses, of the trees, of the 
fences, lay beautifully across the white dusty road. 
... In the river rang incessantly the voice of the 
frogs ; ^ in the streets were heard hurrying steps, and 
sounds of voices, and the galloping of horses. From 
the suburb came floating, now and again, the strains 
of the hand-organ ; now the popular Russian air, " The 
winds are blowing," now one of the Aurora waltzes. 

I will not tell what my thoughts were : in the first 

J The frogs in the Caucasus make a sound entirely different from the 
Kvukan''y6 of the liu»siau frogs. 



22 THE INVADERS. 

place, because I should be ashamed to confess to the 
melancholy ideas which without cessation arose in my 
mind, while all around me I perceived only gayety and 
mirth ; and, in the second place, because they have 
nothing to do with my story. 

I was so deeply engrossed in thought, that I did not 
notice that the bell was ringing for eleven o'clock, and 
the general was riding past me with his suite. 

The rearguard was just at the fortress gate. I gal- 
loped at full speed across the bridge, amid a crush 
of cannon, caissons, military wagons, and commanding 
officers shouting at the top of their voices. After 
reaching the gate, I rode at a brisk trot for almost a 
verst, past the army stretched out and silently moving 
through the darkness, and overtook the general. As I 
made my way past the mounted artillery dragging their 
ordnance, amid the cannon and officers, a German 
voice, like a disagreeable dissonance interrupting soft 
and majestic harmony, struck my ear. It screamed, 
" Agkhtingkhist,^ bring a linstock." 

And a soldier's voice replied, quick as a flash, 
" Chevchenko ! the lieutenant asks for a light ! " 

The greater part of the sky had become enveloped 
in long steel-gray clouds : here and there gleamed from 
between- them the lustreless stars. The moon was now 
sinking behind the near horizon of dark mountains 
which were on the right ; and it shed on their summits 
a feeble, waning, half light, which contrasted sharply 
with the impenetrable darkness that marked their bases. 

The air was mild, and so still, that not a single 
grass-blade, not a single mist-wreath, moved. It be- 
came so dark, that it was impossible to distinguish 

* German mispronunciation for Antichrist, the accent of which in Russian 
falls on the penult. 



THE INVADERS. 23 

objects, even though very near at hand. On the side 
of the road, there seemed to me sometimes to be rocks, 
sometimes animals, sometimes strange men ; and I 
knew that they were bushes only when I heard them 
rustle, and felt the coolness of the dew with which they 
were covered. lu front of me I saw a dense, waving 
black shadow, behind which followed a few moving 
spots ; this was the van-guard of cavalry, and the gen- 
eral with his suite. Between us moved another similar 
black mass, but this was not as high as the first; 
this was the infantr^^ 

Such silence reigned in the whole detachmeilt, that 
there could be plainly distinguished all the harmonious 
voices of the night, full of mysterious charm. The 
distant melancholy howls of jackals, sometimes like 
the wails of despair, sometimes like laughter ; the 
monotonous riiiging song of the cricket, the frog, the 
quail ; a gradually approaching murmur, the cause of 
which I could not make clear to my own mind ; and 
all those nocturnal, almost audible motions of nature, 
which it is so impossible either to comprehend or 
define, — unite into one complete, beautiful harmony 
which we call silent night. 

This silence was broken, or rather was unified, by 
the dull thud of the hoofs, and the rustling of the tall 
grass through which the division was slowly moving. 

Occasionally, however, was heard in the ranks the 
ring of a heavy cannon, the sound of clashing bayonets, 
stifled conversation, and the snorting of a horse. 

Nature breathed peacefully in beauty and power. 

Is it possible that people find no room to live 
together in this beautiful world, under tliis boundless 
starry heaven? Is it possible that amid this bewitch- 
ing nature, the soul of man can harbor the sentiments 



24 THE INVADERS. 

of hatred and revenge, or the passion for inflict! ifg 
destruction upon his kind? All ugly feelings in the 
heart of man ought, it would seem, to vanish away 
in this intercourse with nature, — with this immediate 
expression of beauty and goodness ! 



THE INVADERS. 25 



VII. 



We had now been marching more than two hours. 
I began to feel chilly, and to be overcome with drowsi- 
ness. In the darkness the same indistinct objects 
dimly appeared : at a little distance, the same black 
shadow, tlie same moving spots. Beside me was the 
crupper of a white horse, which switched his tail and 
swung his hind-legs in wide curves. I could see a back 
in a white Circassian shirt, against which was outlined 
a carbine in its black case, and the handle of a pistol 
in an embroidered holster: the glow of a cigarette 
casting a gleam on a reddish mustache, a fur collar, 
and a hand in a chamois-skin glove. 

I leaned over my horse's neck, closed my eyes, and 
lost myself for a few miuutes : then suddenly the 
regular hoof-beat^ and rustling came into my con- 
sciousness again. I looked around, and it seemed to 
me as though I were standing still in one spot, and 
that the black shadow in front of me was moving down 
upon me ; or else that the shadow stood still, and I 
was rapidly riding down upon it. 

At one such moment I was more strongly than ever 
impressed by that incessantly approaching sound, the 
cause of which I could not fathom : it was the roar of 
water. We were passing though a deep gulch, and 
coming close to a mountain river, which at that season 
was in full flood. -^ The roaring became louder, the 

* tOJMJt. 

' In the CaucaauB the freBhetu take place iu the mouth of July. 



26 THE INVADERS. 

damp grass grew taller and thicker, bushes were en- 
countered in denser clumps, and the horizon narrowed 
itself down to closer limits. Now and then, in different 
places in the dark hollows of the mountains, bright 
fires flashed out and were immediately extinguished. 

''Tell me, please, what are those fires," I asked in 
a whisper of the Tatar riding at my side. 

*' Don't you really know? " was his reply. 

'' No," said I. 

''That is mountain straw tied to a pole,* and the 
light is waved." 

"What for?" 

" So that every man may know the Russian is 
coming. Now in the Auls," he added with a smile, 
" ai, cCi! the tomdsha^ are flying about ; every sort of 
khurda-murda^ will be hurried iuto the ravines." 

" How do they know so soon in the mountains that 
the expedition is coming? " I asked. 

"j^i/ How can they help knowing? It's known 
everywhere : that's the kind of people we are." 

" And so Shamyl is now getting ready to march 
out? " I asked. 

" Tok (no)," he replied, shaking his head as a sign 
of negation, " Shamyl will not march out. Shamed 
will send his naibs,* and he himself will look down 
from up yonder through his glass." 

" But doesn't he live a long way off ? " 

1 tayak in the Caucasian dialect. 

2 tomdsha means slaves in the ordinary dialect invented for intercourse 
between Russians and Tatars. There are many words in this strange 
dialect, the roots of which are not to be found either in Russian or Tatar. 
— AuTHon's Note- 

3 Goods and chattels in the same dialect. 

* tiaib ordinarily moans a Mohammedan judge or high religious officer, in 
Turkey and the Caucasus; Ikmg it means an officer whom the great Circas- 
sian chieftain Shamyl endowed wiLh special authority. 



THE INVADERS. 27 

'' Not a long way otf. Here, at your left, about ten 
versts he will be." 

''How do you know that?" I inquh-ed. "Have 
you been there ? ' ' 

"I've been there. All of us in the mountains 
have." 

" And you have seen Shamyl? ** 

" Pikh! Shamyl is not to be seen by us. A hun- 
dred, three hundred, a thousand murids^ surround him. 
Shamyl will be in the midst of them," he said with an 
expression of fawning servility. 

Looking up iu the air, it was possible to make out 
that the sky which had become clear again was lighter 
in the east, and the Pleiades were sinking down into 
the horizon. But in the gulch through which we were 
passing, it was humid and dark. 

Suddenly, a little in advance of us, from out the 
darkness flashed a number of lights ; at the same in- 
stant, with a ping some bullets whizzed by, and from 
out the silence that surrounded us from afar arose the 
heavy, overmastering roar of the guns. This. was the 
vanguard of the enemy's pickets. The Tatars, of 
which it was composed, set up their war-cry, shot at 
random, and fled in all directions. 

Every thing became silent again. The general sum- 
moned his interpreter. The Tatar in a white Circas- 
sian dress hastened up to him, and the two held a 
rather long conversation in a sort of whisper and with 
man}' gestures. 

"Colonel Khasdnof! give orders to scatter the 
enemy," said the general in a low, deliberate, but 
distinct tone of voice. 

1 The word murid has many eignificaUone, but in the sense here employe 
it meaus Bomethiug between adjutant and body-guard. — AuTuou'a Note. 



SUS THE INVADERS. 

The division went down to tlie river. The black 
mountains stood back from the pass ; it was beginning 
to grow light. The arch of heaven, in which the pale, 
lustreless stars were barely visible, seemed to come 
closer ; the dawn began to glow brightly in the east ; a 
cool, penetrating breeze sprang up from the west, and 
a bright mist like steam arose from the foaming river. 



0- 



fh 



s9iUF0RH|^ 

THE IN VADERS. 29 



VIII. 

• 

The guide pointed out the ford ; and the vanguard 
of cavahy, with the general and his suite immediately 
in its rear, began to cross the river. The water, 
which reached the horses' breasts, rushed with extraor- 
dinary violence among the white bowlders which in 
some places came to the top, and formed foaming, gur- 
gling whirlpools around the horses' legs. The horses 
were frightened at the roar of the water, lifted then* 
heads, pricked up their ears, but slowly and carefully 
picked their way against the stream along the uneven 
bottom. The riders held up their legs and fire-arms. 
The foot-soldiers, literally in their shirts alone, lifting 
above the water their muskets to which were fastened 
their bundles of clothing, struggled against the force 
of the stream by clinging together, a score of men at a 
time, showing noticeable detennination on their excited 
faces. Tlie artillery-men on horseback, with a loud 
shout, put their hoi-ses into the water at full trot. The 
cannon and green-painted caissons, over which now 
and then the water came pouring, plunged with a 
clang over the rocky bottom ; but the noble Cossack 
horses pulled with united effort, made the water foam, 
and with dripping tails and manes emerged on the 
farther shore. 

As soon as the crossmg was effected, the general's 
face suddenly took on an expression of deliberation 
and seriousness ; he wheeled his horse around, and at 



30 THE INVADERS. 

full gallop rode across the wide forest-surrounded 
field which spread before us. The Cossack horses were 
scattered along the edge of the forest. 

In the forest appeai-s a man in Circassian dress 
and round cap ; then a second and a third . . . one 
of the officers shouts, ''Those are Tatars! " At this 
instant a puff of smoke came from behind a tree . . . 
a report — another. The quick volleys of our men 
drown out those of the enemy. Only occasionally 
a bullet, with long-drawn ping like the hum of a bee, 
flies by, and is the only proof that not all the shots 
are ours. 

Here the infantry at double quick, and with fixed 
bayonets, dash against the chain ; one can hear the 
heavy reports of the guns, the metallic clash of grape- 
shot, the whiz of rockets, the crackling of musketry. 
The cavalry, the infantry, converge from all sides on 
the wide field. The smoke from the guns, rockets, 
and fire-arms, unites with the early mist arising from 
the dew-covered grass. 

Colonel Khasdnof gallops up to the general, and 
reins in his horse while at full tilt. 

'•'- Your Excellency," says he, lifting his hand to his 
cap, '* give orders for the cavalry to advance. The 
standards are coming," ^ and he points with his whip 
to mounted Tatars, at the head of whom rode two men 
on white horses with red and blue streamers on their 
lances. 

" All right,^ Ivdn MikhA'ilovitch," says the general. 

The colonel wheels his horse round on the spot, 
draws his sabre, and shouts '' Hurrah ! " 

1 znatchki. This word among the mountaineers has almost the signifiea- 
tion of banner, with this single distinction, that each jigit can make a standard 
for himself and carry it. — Author's Note. 

2 a Bogom, literally '♦ with Uod," but a mere phrase. 



THE INVADERS. 31 

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" echoes from the 
ranks, and the cavalry dash after him. 

All look on with excitement : there is a standard ; ^ 
another ; a third ; a fourth ! . . . 

The enemy, not waiting the assault, fly into the 
forest, and open a musket fire from behind the. trees. 
The bullets fly more and more thickly. 

" Quel charmant coup d'oeil!" exclaimed ihe general 
as he easily rose in English fashion on his coal-black, 
slender-limbed little steed. 

" Charmant,** replies the major, who rolls his r's 
like a Frenchman, and whipping up his horse dashes 
after the general. ''It's a genuine pleasure to carry 
on war in such a fine country," says he.^ 

"And above all in good company," adds the gen- 
eral still in French, with a pleasant smile. 

The major bowed. 

At this time a cannon-ball from the enemy comes 
flying by with a swift, disagreeable whiz, and strikes 
something ; immediately is heard the groan of a 
wounded man. This groan impresses me so painfully 
that the martial picture instantly loses for me all its 
fascination : but no one beside myself seems to be 
afi'ected in the same way ; the major smiles apparently 
with the greatest satisfaction ; another officer with 
perfect equanimity repeats the opening words of a 
speech ; the general looks in the opposite direction, and 
with the most tranquil smile says something in French. 

" Will you give orders to reply to their heavy 
guns?" asks the commander of the artillery, galloping 
up. " Yes, scare them a little," says the general 
carelessly, lighting a cigar. 

* znatchok. 

' C'est un vrai plaislr, que la guerre dans un aussi beau pays. 



82 THE INVADERS. 

The battery is unlimbered, and the cannonade begins. 
The ground shakes under the report ; the firing con- 
tinues without cessation ; and the smoke in which it 
is scarcely possible to distinguish those attending the 
guns, blinds the eyes. 

The aul is battered down. Again Colonel Khasdnof 
dashes up, and at the general's command darts off to 
the aul. The war-cry is heard again, and the cavalry 
disappears in the cloud of its own dust. 

The spectacle was truly grandiose. One thing only 
spoiled the general impression for me as a man who 
had no part in the affair, and was wholly unwonted to 
it ; and this was that there was too much of it, — the 
motion and the animation and the shouts. Involun- 
tarily the comparison occurred to me of a man who in 
his haste would cut the air with a hatchet. 



THE INVADERS. 33 



IX. 



The aul was -already in the possession of our men, 
and not a soul of the enemy remained in it when the 
general with his suite, to which I had joined myself, 
entered it. 

, The long neat huts or sakli^ with their flat earthen 
roofs and red chimneys, were situated on rough, rocky 
hills, between which ran a small river. On one side 
were seen the green gardens, shining in the clear sun- 
light, with monstrous pear-trees, and the plum-trees, 
called luitcha. The other side bristled with strange 
shadows, where stood the high perpendicular stones of 
a cemetery, and the tall wooden poles adorned at the 
ends with balls and variegated banners. These were 
the tombs of jigits. 

The army stood drawn up within the gates. 

After a moment the dragoons, the Cossacks, the 
infantry, with evident joy were let loose through the 
crooked streets, and the empty aul suddenly teemed 
with life. Here a roof is crushed in ; the axe rings on 
the tough trees, and the plank door is broken down ; 
there hay-ricks, fences, and huts are burning, and the 
dense smoke arises like a tower in the clear air. Here 
a Cossack is carrying off sacks of flour, and carpets ; 
a soldier with a gay face lugs from a hut a tin basin 
and a dish-clout ; another with outstretched arms is 
trying to catch a couple of hens, which cackling furi- 
ously fly about the yard ; a third is going somewhere 



84 THE INVADERS. 

with a monstrous kumgan or pitcher of milk, and drink- 
ing as he goes, and when he has had his fill smashes it 
on the ground with a loud laugh. 

The battalion which 1 had accompanied from Fort 

N was also in the anl. The captain was sitting 

on the roof of a hut, and was puffing from his short 
little pipe clouds of smoke of sambrotalicheski tahcik 
with such an indifferent expression of countenance 
that when I saw him I forgot that 1 was in a hostile 
aul, and it seemed to me that I was actually at home 
with him. 

''Ah! and here 3^ou are?" he said as he caught 
sight of me. 

The tall form of Lieutenant Rosenkranz flashed here 
and there through the aul. Without a moment's pause 
he was engaged in carr3ing out orders, and he had the 
appearance of a man who had all he could do. I saw 
him coming out of a hut, his face full of triumph ; be- 
hind him two soldiers were dragging an old Tatar with 
his arms tied. The old man, whose garb consisted 
merely of a many-colored heslimet torn in tatters, and 
ragged drawers, was so feeble that it seemed as if his 
bony arms, tightly tied behind his misshapen back, 
were almost falling from his shoulders ; and his crooked 
bare legs moved with difficulty. His face, and eveA 
a part of his shaven head, were covered with deep 
wrinkles ; his distorted toothless mouth, encircled by 
gray clipped mustache and beard, incessantly mumbled 
as though whisperinor something ; but his handsome 
eyes, from which the lashes were gone, still gleamed 
with fire, and clearly expressed an old man's indiffer- 
ence to life. 

Rosenkranz through an interpreter asked him why 
he had not gono with the others. 



THE INVADERS. 85 

''Where should I go?" he replied, calmly looking 
away. 

'' Where the rest have gone,** suggested some 
one. 

" The jigit3 have gone to fight with the Russians, and 
1 am an old man." 

** Aren't you afraid of the Russians? ** 

" What will the Russians do to me? I am an old 
man," he repeated, carelessly glancing at the circle 
surrounding him. 

On the way back, 1 saw this old man without a hat, 
with his hands still tied, jolting behind a mounted 
Cossack, and he was looking about him with the same 
expression of unconcern. He was necessary in an 
exchange of prisoners. 

I went to the staircase, and crept up to where the 
captain was. 

" Not many of the enemy, it seems,*' I said to him, 
wishing to obtain his opinion about the affair. 

"The enemy," he repeated with surprise, "there 
weren't any at all. Do you call these enemies? . . . 
Here when evening comes, you will see how we shall 
retreat ; you will see how they will go with us ! Won't 
they show themselves there?" he added, pointing with 
his pipe to the forest which we had passed in the 
morning. 

"What is that?'* I asked anxiously, interrupting 
the captain, and drawing his attention to some Don 
Cossacks who were grouped around some one not far 
from us. 

Among them was heard something like the weeping 
of a child, and the words, — 

"Eh! don't cut — hold on — you will be seen — 
here's a knife — give him the knife.** 



36 THE INVADERS. 

*' They are up to some mischief, the brutes," said 
the captain indifferently.. 

Bot at this very instant, suddenly from around the 
corner came the handsome ensign with burning, horror- 
stricken face, and waving his hands rushed among the 
Cossacks. 

" Don't you move ! don't kill him ! " he cried in his 
boyish treble. 

When the Cossacks saw the officer they started back, 
and allowed a little white goat to escape from their 
hands. The young ensign was wholly taken aback, 
began to mutter something, and stood before them full 
of confusion. When he caught sight of the captain 
and me on the roof, he grew still redder in the face, 
and springing up the steps joined us. 

" I thought they were going to kill a child," he said 
with a timid smile. 



THE INVADERS. 37 



The general had gone on ahead with the cavah-y. 

The battalion with which 1 had come from Fort N 

remained in the rear-guard. The companies under com- 
mand of Captain KhloiK)f and Lieutenant Rosenkranz 
were retreating together. 

The captain's prediction was fully justified : as soon 
as we had reached the narrow forest of which he had 
spoken, from both sides the mountaineers, mounted 
and on foot, began to show themselves incessantly^ and 
so near that I could very distinctly see many crouching 
down, with muskets in their hands, and running from 
tree to tree. 

The captain took off his hat, and piously made the 
sign of the cross ; a few old soldiers did the same. In 
the forest were heard shouts, the words, *' id^i! Giaur! 
Urus! idif' 

Dry, short musket reiwils followed in quick succes- 
sion, and bullets whizzed from both sides. Our men 
silently replied with rapid fire ; only occasionally in the 
ranks were heard exclamations in the guise of direc- 
tions : " He ^ has stopped shooting there ; '* " He has a 
good chance behind the trees;" ''We ought to have 
cannon,'* and such expressions. 

The cannon were brought to bear on the range, and 
after a few discharges of grape the enemy apparently 
gave way ; but after a little their fire became more and 

' On —he — the collective expression by which the soldiers in the Cauca- 
sus indicate the enemy. — Authob'b Note. 



38 THE INVADERS. 

more violent with each step that the army took, and the 
shouts and war-cries increased. 

We were scarcely three hundred sazliens ^ from the 
aul when the enemy's shot began to hail down upon 
us. I saw a ball with a thud strike one soldier dead 
. . . but why relate details of this terrible spectacle, 
when I myself would give much to forget it? 

Lieutenant Rosenkranz was firing his musket with- 
out a moment's cessation ; with animating voice he was 
shouting to the soldiers, and galloping at full speed 
from one end of the line to the other. He was slightly 
pale, and this was decidedly becoming to his martial 
countenance. 

The handsome ensign was in his element : his beau- 
tiful eyes gleamed with resolution, his mouth was 
slightly parted with a smile ; he was constantly riding 
up to the captain, and asking permission to charge.^ 

''We'll drive them back," he said impulsively, — 
'* we'll drive them back surely." 

*'No need of it," replied the captain gently: "we 
must get out of here." 

The captain's company occupied the edge of the 
forest, and was fully exposed to the enemy's fire. The 
captain in his well-worn coat and tattered cap, slack- 
ening the reins for his white trotter and clinging hy 
his short stirrups, silently staid in one place. (The 
soldiers were so well trained, and did their work so 
accurately, that there was no need of giving commands 
to them.) Only now and then he raised his voice, and 
shouted to those who exposed their heads. The cap- 
ain's face was very far from maitial ; but such truth 
and simplicity were manifest in it, that it impressed me 
profoundly. 

1 2,100 feet. 2 brositsa na urd — io rush with a hurrah! 



THE INVADERS. 39 

"There is some one who is truly brave,'* I said to 
mj'self involuntarily. 

He was almost exactly the same as I had always 
seen him ; the same tranquil motions, the same even 
voice, the same expression of frankness on his homely 
but honest face ; but by his more than ordinarily keen 
glance it was possible to recognize him as a man who 
infallibly knew his business. It is easy to say the 
same as always; but how different were the traits 
brought out in others ! one tried to seem calmer, an- 
other rougher, a third gayer, than usual ; but by the 
captain's face it was manifest that he did not even 
understand hoio to seem. 

The Frenchman who at Waterloo said. La garde 
meurt, mais ne se rendpas^ and other heroes, especially 
among the French, who have uttered notable sayings, 
were brave, and really uttered notable sayings; but 
between their bravery, and the bravery of the captain, 
is this difference, that if a great saying in regard to any 
subject came into my hero's mind, I believe that he 
would not have uttered it ; in the first place, because 
he would have feared that in saying something great 
he might spoil a great deed, and, secondly, because 
when a man is conscious within himself of the power 
to do a great deed, there is no need of saying any thing 
at all. This, in my opinion, is the especial and lofty 
character of Russian bravery ; and how, henceforth, 
can it fail to wound the Russian heart when among our 
young warriors one hears French platitudes which have 
their vogue because they were the stock phrases of the 
old French nobility? ... 

Suddenly, from the direction in which the handsome 
ensign with his division was stationed, was heard a 
faint hurrah from the enemy. Turning round at this 



40 THE INVADERS. 

shouting I saw thirty soldiers who with mnskets in 
their hands and knapsacks on their shoulders were 
going at double-quick across the ploughed field. They 
stumbled, but still pushed ahead and shouted. Leading 
them galloped the young ensign, waving his sabre. 

All were lost to sight in the forest. 

At the end of a few moments of shouting and clash 
of arms, a frightened horse came dashing out of the 
woods, and just at the edge soldiers were seen bearing 
the killed and wounded. Among the latter was the 
young ensign. Two soldiers carried him in their 
arms. He was pale as a sheet, and his graceful head, 
where could be now detected only the shadow of that 
martial enthusiasm which inspired him but a moment 
before, was strangely drawn down between his shoul- 
ders and rested on his breast. On his white shirt 
under his coat, which was torn open, could be seen a 
small blood-stain. 

*' Akh ! what a pity ! " I said in spite of myself, 
as I turned away from this heart-rending spectacle. 

'* Indeed it's too bad," said an old soldier who with 
gloomy face stood beside me leaning on his musket. 
" He wasn't afraid of any thing ! How is this possi- 
ble? " he added, looking steadily at the wounded lad. 
'-'- Always foolish ! and now he has to pay for it ! " 

" And aren't you afraid? " I asked. 

'' No, indeed! " 



THE INVADERS. 41 



XI. 



P'ouR soldiers bore the ensign on a litter ; behind 
them followed a soldier from the suburb, leading a 
lean, foundered horse laden with two green chests in 
which were the surgeon's implements. They were 
expecting the doctor. The officers hurried up to the 
litter, and tried to encourage and comfort the wounded 
lad. 

"Well, brother Aldnin, it'll be some time before 
you dance and make merry again," said Lieutenant 
Rosenkranz coming up with a smile. 

He probably intended these words to sustain the 
handsome ensign's courage ; but as could be easily seen 
from the coldly mournful expression in the eyes of the 
latter, these words did not produce the wished-for 
effect. 

The captain also came up. He gazed earnestly at 
the wounded young fellow, and his always cold, calm 
face expressed heartfelt pity. 

" How is it, my dear Anatoli Ivdnuitch? " said he in 
a ton« which rang with a deeper sympathy than I had 
expected from him : ••' we see it's as God wills." 

The wounded lad looked up ; his pale face was 
lighted with a mournful smile. 

'' Yes, I disobeyed 3'ou." 

*' Say rather, it was God's will," replied the captain. 

The doctor, who had now arrived, took from his 
chest, bandages, probes, and other instruments, and, 



42 THE INVADERS. 

rolling up his sleeves with a re-assuring smile, ap- 
proached the sufferer. 

"So it seems they have been making a little hole 
through you," he said in a tone of jesting unconcern. 
" Let us have a look at the* place." 

The ensign listened, but in the gaze which he fixed 
on the jolly doctor were expressed surprise and re- 
proachfulness which the latter did not expect. He 
began to probe the wound and examine it from all 
sides ; but at last the sufferer, losing his patience, 
pushed away his hand with a heavy groan. 

^' Let me be," he said in an almost inaudible voice : 
''it makes no difference; I am dying." With these 
words he fell on his back ; and five minutes later when 
I joined the group gathered about him, and asked a 
soldier, " How is the ensign?" I was told, " He has 
go7ie.'* 



THE INVADERS. 43 



XIT. 



It was late when tne exi)edition, deploying in a broad 
column, entered the fortress with songs. The sun had 
set behind the snow-covered mountain crest, and was 
throwing its last rosy rays on the long delicate clouds 
which stretched across the bright pellucid western sky. 
The snow-capped mountains began to clothe them- 
selves in purple mist ; only their upper outlines were 
marked with extraordinar}^ distinctness against the 
violet light of the sunset. The clear moon, which had 
long been up, began to shed its light through the dark 
blue sky. The green of the grass and of the trees 
changed to black, and grew wet with dew. The dark, 
masses of the armj', with gradually increasing tumult, 
advanced across the field ; from different sides were 
heard the sounds of cymbals, drums, and merry songs. 
The leader of the sixth company sang out with full 
strength, and full of feeling and power the clear chest- 
notes of the tenor were borne afar through the trans- 
lucent evening all-. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

(Rubka Vyesa.) 

THE STORY OF A YVNRER'S^ ADVENTURE. 



I. 



Tn midwinter, in the year 185-, a division of our 
batteries was engaged in an expedition on the Great 
Chetchen River. On the evening of Feb. 26, having 
been informed that the platoon which I commanded in 
the absence of its regular officer was detailed for the 
following day to help cut down the forest, and having 
that evening obtained and given the necessary direc- 
tions, I betook mj^self to my tent earlier than usual ; 
and as I had not got into the bad habit of warming it 
with burning coals, I threw myself, without undressing, 
down on my bed made of sticks, and, drawing my 
Circassian cap over my eyes, I rolled myself up in 
my shuba^ and fell into that peculiarly deep and heavy 
sleep which one obtains at the moment of tumult and 
disquietude on the eve of a great peril. The antici- 
pation of the morrow's action brought me to such a 
state. 

At three o'clock in the morning, while it was still 
perfectly dark, my warm sheep-skin was pulled off 

^ Yunker (German Junker) is a nou coramiseioned olTicer belonging to the 
nobilily. Count Tolstoi himself began his military service iu the Caucasus 
as a Yunker. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 45 

from me, and the red light of a caudle was unpleasantly 
flashed upon my sleepy eyes. 

"It's time to get up," said some one's voice. I 
shut m}' eyes involuntarily, wrapped my sheep-skin 
around me again, and dropped off into slumber. 

" It's time to get up," repeated Dmitri relentlessly, 
shaking me by the shoulder. "The infantry are 
starting." I suddenly came to a sense of the reality 
of things, started up, and sprang to my feet. 

Hastily swallowing a glass of tea, and taking a bath 
in ice- water, I crept out from my tent, and went to the 
park (where the guns were placed). It was dark, 
misty, and cold. The night fires, lighted here and there 
throughout the camp, lighted up the forms of drowsy 
soldiers scattered around them, and seemed to make 
the darkness deeper by their ruddy flickering flames. 
Near at hand one could hear monotonous, tranquil 
snoring ; in the distance, movement, the babble of 
voices, and the jangle of arms, as the foot-soldiers 
got in readiness for the expedition. There was an 
odor of smoke, manure, wicks, and fog. The morning 
frost crept down my back, and my teeth chattered 
in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. 

Only by the snorting and occasional stamping of 
horses could one make out in the impenetrable dark- 
ness where the harnessed limbers and caissons were 
drawn up, and, by the flashing points of the lintstocks, 
where the cannon were. With the word#s Bogom, — 
God speed it, — the first gun moved off with a clang, 
followed by the rumbling caisson, and the platoon got 
under way. 

We all took off our caps, and made the sign of the 
cross. Taking its place in the interval between the 
infantry, our platoon halted, and waited from four 



46 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

o'clock until the muster of the whole force was made, 
and the commander came. 

''There's one of our men missing, Nikolai Petro- 
vitch," said a black form coming to me. I recognized 
him by his voice only as the platoon-artillerist Mak- 
simof. 

"Who?" 

" Velenchuk is missing. When we hitched up he 
was here, I saw him ; but now he's gone." 

As it was entirely unlikely that the column would 
move immediately, we resolved to send Corporal 
Ant(Snof to find Velenchuk. Shortly after this, the 
sound of several horses riding by us in the darkness 
was heard ; this was the commander and his suite. 
In a few moments the head of the column started and 
turned, — finally we also moved, — but Antonof and 
Velenchuk had not appeared. However, we had not 
gone a hundred paces when the two soldiers overtook 
us. 

" Where was he?'* I asked of Antonof. 

" Pie was asleep in the park." 

" What ! he was drunk, wasn't he? " 

"No, not at all." 

" What made him go to sleep, then?" 

" I don't know." 

During three hours of darkness we slowly defiled in 
monotonous silence across uncultivated, snowless fields 
and low bushes which crackled under the wheels of the 
ordnance. 

At last, after we had crossed a shallow but phe- 
nomenally rapid brook, a halt was called, and from the 
vanguard were heard desultory musket-shots. These 
sounds, as always, created the most extraordinary ex- 
citement in us all. The division had been almost 



ukive'iJsi 




asleep ; now the ranks became alive with conversation, 
repartees, and laughter. Some of the soldiers wrestled 
with their mates ; others played hop, skip and jump ; 
others chewed on their hard-tack, or, to pass away the 
time, engaged in drumming the different roll-calls. 
Meantime the fog slowly began to lift in the east, the 
dampness became more palpable, and the surrounding 
objects gradually made themselves manifest emerging 
from the darkness. 

1 already began to make out the green caissons and 
gun-carriages, the brass cannon wet with mist, the 
familiar forms of m}- soldiers whom I knew even to 
the least details, the sorrel horses, and the files of in- 
fantry, with their bright bayonets, their knapsacks, 
ramrods, and canteens on their backs. 

We were quickly in motion again, and, after going 
a few hundred paces where there was no road, were 
shown the appointed place. On the right were seen 
the steep banks of a winding river and the high posts 
of a Tatar burying-ground. At the left and in front 
of us, through the fog, appeared the black belt. The 
platoon got under way with the hmbers. The eighth 
company, which was protecting us, stacked their arms-, 
and a battalion of soldiers with muskets and axes 
started for the forest. 

Not five minutes had elapsed when on all sides piles 
of wood began to crackle and smoke ; the soldiers 
swarmed about, fanning the fires with their hands and 
feet, lugging l)rush-wood and logs ; and in the forest 
were heard the incessant strokes of a hundred axes 
and the ci'asli of falling trees. 

The artillery, with not a little spirit of rivalry with 
the infantry, heaped up their piles ; and soon the fire 
was already so well under way that it was impossible 



48 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

to get within a couple of paces of it. The dense black 
smoke arose through the icy branches, from which the 
water dropped hissing into the flames, as the soldiers 
heaped them upon the fire ; and the glowing coals 
dropped down upon the dead white grass exposed by 
the heat. It was all mere boy's play to the soldiers ; 
they dragged great logs, threw on the tall steppe 
grass, and fanned the fire more and more. 

As 1 came near a bonfire to hght a cigarette, Velen- 
chuk, always officious, but, now that he had been found 
napping, showing himself more actively engaged about 
the fire than any one else, in an excess of zeal seized 
a coal with his naked hand from the very middle of 
the fire, tossed it from one palm to the other, two or 
three times, and flung it on the ground. " Light a 
match and give it to him," said another. "Bring a 
lintstock, fellows," said still a third. 

When I at last lighted my cigarette without the aid 
of Velenchuk, who tried to bring another coal from the 
fire, he rubbed his burnt fingers on the back of his 
sheepskin coat, and, doubtless for the sake of exercis- 
ing himself, seized a great plane-tree stump, and with 
a mighty swing flung it on the fire. When at last it 
seemed to him that he might rest, he went close to the 
fire, spread out his cloak, which he wore like a mantle 
fastened at the back by a single button, stretched his 
legs, folded his great black hands in his lap, and 
opening his mouth a little, closed his eyes. 

" Alas ! ^ I forgot my pipe! What a shame, fel- 
lows ! " he said after a short silence, and not address- 
ing anybody in particular. 

1 Ekh-ma. 



TUE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 49 



n. 



In Russia there are three predominating types of 
soldiers, which embrace the soldiers of all arms, — 
those of the Caucasus, of the line, the guards, the 
infantry, the cavalry, the artillery, and the others. 

These three types, with many subdivisions and 
combinations, are as follows : — 

(1) The obedient, 

(2) The domineering or dictatorial, and 

(3) The desperate. 

The obedient are subdivided into the apathetic obe- 
dient and the energetic obedient. 

The domineering are subdivided into the gruffly 
domineering and the diplomatically domineering. 

The desperate are subdivided into the desperate 
jesters and the simply desperate. 

The type more frequenth' encountered than the rest 
— the type most gentle, most sympathetic, and for the 
most part endowed with the Christian virtues of meek- 
ness, devotion, patience, and submission to the will of 
God — is that of the obedient. 

The distinctive character of the apathetic obedient 
is a certain invincible indifference and disdain of all 
the turns of fortune which may overtake him. 

The characteristic trait of the drunken obedient is a 
mild poetical tendency and sensitiveness. 

The characteristic trait of the energetic obedient is 
his limitation in intellectual faculties, united with an 
endless assiduity and fervor. 



50 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

The type of the domineering is to be found more 
especially in the higher spheres of the army : corporals, 
non-commissioned officers, sergeants and others. In 
the first division of the gruffly domineering are the high- 
born, the energetic, and especially the martial type, 
not excepting those who are stern in a lofty poetic 
way (to this category belonged Corporal Antonof, with 
whom I intend to make the reader acquainted). 

The second division is composed of the diplomati- 
cally domineering, and this class has for some time 
been making rapid advances. The diplomatically 
domineering is always eloquent, knows how to read, 
goes about in a pink shirt, does not eat from the 
common kettle, often smokes cheap Muscat tobacco, 
considers himself immeasurably higher than the simple 
soldier, and is himself rarely as good a soldier as the 
gruffly domineering of the first class. 

The type of the desperate is almost the same as 
that of the domineering, that is, it is good in the first 
division, — the desperate jesters, the characteristic fea- 
tures of whom are invariably jollity, a huge unconcern 
in regard to every thing, a wealth of nature and 
boldness. 

The second division is in the same way detestable : 
the criminally desperate, who, however, it must be said 
for the honor of the Russian soldier, are very rarely 
met with, and, if they are met with, then they are 
quickly drummed out of comradeship with the true 
soldier. Atheism, and a certain audacity in crime, are 
the chief traits of this character. 

Velenchiik came under the head of the energetically 
obedient. He was a Little Russian by birth, had been 
fifteen years in the service ; and while he was not a 
fine-looking nor a very skilful soldier, still he was 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 51 

simple-hearted, kind, and extraordinarily full of zeal, 
though for the most part misdirected zeal, and he was 
extraordinarily honest. I say extraordinarily honest, 
because the year before there had been an occurrence 
in which he had given a remarkable exhibition of this 
characteristic. You must know that almost every 
soldier has his own trade. The greater number are 
tailors and shoemakers. Velenchi'ik himself practised 
the trade of tailoring ; and, judging from the fact that 
Sergeant Mikhdil Dorofeitch gave him his custom, it 
is safe to say that he had reached a famous degree of 
accomplishment. The 3-ear before, it happened that 
while in camp, Velenchuk took a fine cloak to make 
for Mikhdil Dorofeitch. But that very night, after he 
had cut the cloth, and stitched on the trimmings, and 
put it under his pillow in his tent, a misfortune befell 
him : the cloth, which was worth seven rubles, disap- 
peared during the night. Velenchuk with tears in his 
eyes, with pale quivering lips and with stifled lamenta- 
tions, confessed the circumstance to the sergeant. 

Mikhail Dorofeitch fell iiito a passion. In the first 
moment of his indignation he threatened the tailor ; but 
afterwards, like a kindly man with plenty of means, 
he waved his hand, and did not exact from Velenchuk 
the value of the cloak. In spite of the fussy tailor's 
endeavors, and the tears that he shed while telling 
about his misfortune, the thief was not detected. 
Although strong suspicious were attached to a cor- 
ruptly desperate soldier named Chernof, who slept in 
the same tent with him, still there was no decisive 
proof. The diplomatically dictatorial Mikhjiil Doro- 
feitch, as a man of means, having vaiious arrange- 
ments with the inspector of arms and steward of the 
mess, the aristocrats of the battery, quickly forgot all 



52 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDfTION. 

about the loss of this particular cloak. Velenchuk, 
on the contrary, did not forget his unhappiness. The 
soldiers declared that at tliis time they were apprehen- 
sive about him, lest he should make way with himself, 
or flee to the mountains, so heavily did his misfortune 
weigh upon him. He did not eat, he did not drink, 
was not able to work, and wept all the time. At the 
end of three days he appeared before Mikhail Doro- 
f^itch, and without any color in his face, and with a 
trembling hand, drew out of his sleeve a piece of gold, 
and gave it to him. 

" Faith, ^ and here's all that I have, Mikhdil Doro- 
f^itch ; and this 1 got from Zhddnof," he said, begin- 
ning to sob again. " I will give 3'ou two more rubles, 
truly I will, when I have earned them. He (who the 
he was, Velenchuk himself did not know) made me 
seem like a rascal in your eyes. He, the beastly 
viper, stole from a brother soldier his hard earnings ; 
and here I have been in the service fifteen years." . . . 

To the honor of Mikhdil Dorofeitch, it must be said 
that he did not require of Velenchuk the last two 
rubles, though Velenchuk brought them to him at the 
end of two months. 

1 yei Bogu. 



mm^ 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 53 



III. 



Five other soldiers of my platoon besides Velenehuk 
were warming themselves around the bonfire. 

In the best place, away from the wind, on a cask, 
sat the platoon artillerist^ Makslmof, smoking his 
pipe. In the posture, the gaze, and all the motions of 
this man it could be seen that he was accustomed to 
command, and was conscious of his own worth, even 
if nothing were said about the cask whereon he sat, 
which during the halt seemed to become the emblem of 
power, or the nankeen short-coat which he wore. 

When I approached, he turned his head round toward 
me ; but his eyes remained fixed upon the fire, and only 
after some time did they follow the direction of his 
face, and rest upon me. Maksimof came from a semi- 
noble family.'^ He had property, and in the school 
brigade he obtained rank, and acquired some learning. 
According to the reports of the soldiers, he was fear- 
fully rich and fearfully learned. 

1 remember how one time, when they were making 
practical experiments with the quadrant, he explained, 
to the soldiers gathered around him, that the motions 
of the spirit level arise from the same causes as those 
of the atmospheric quicksilver. At bottom Maksimof 
was far from stupid, and knew his business admirably ; 
but he had the l^ad habit of speaking, sometimes on 

* feierverker ; German, Feuerwerker. 

2 odnodvortsui, of one estate; freemen, who in the seventeenth century 
were settled in the Ukrai'na with special privileges. 



54 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

purpose, in such a way that it was impossible to under- 
stand him, and I think he did not understand his own 
words. He had an especial fondness for the words 
'^ arises" and "to proceed;" and whenever he said 
" it arises," or *' now let us proceed," then I knew in 
advance that I should not understand what would fol- 
low. The soldiers, on the contrary, as I had a chance 
to observe, enjoyed hearing his "arises," and sus- 
pected it of containing deep meaning, though, like my- 
self, they could not understand his words. But this 
incomprehensibility they ascribed to his depth, and they 
worshipped Feodor Maksimuitch accordingly. In a 
word, Makslmof was diplomatically dictatorial. 

The second soldier near the fire, engaged in drawing 
on his sinewy red legs a fresh pair of stockings, was 
Antonof, the same bombardier Antonof who as early 
as 1837, together with two others stationed by one gun 
without shelter, was returning the shot of the enemy, 
and with two bullets in his thigh continued still to serve 
his gun and load it. 

"He would have been artillerist long before, had it 
not been for his character," said the soldiers ; and it 
was true that his character was odd. When he was 
sober, there was no man more calm, more peaceful, 
more correct in his deportment ; when he was drunk 
he became an entirely different man. Not recognizing 
authority, he became quarrelsome and turbulent, and 
was wholly valueless as a soldier. Not more than a 
week before this time he got drunk at Shrovetide ; and 
in spite of all threats and exhortations, and his attach- 
ment to his cannon, he got tipsy and quarrelsome on 
the first Monday in Lent. Throughout the fast, not- 
withstanding the order for all in the division to eat 
meat, he lived on hard- tack alone, and in the first week 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 55 

he did not even take the prescribed allowance of vodka. 
However, it was necessary to see this short figure, 
tough as iron, with his stumpy, crooked legs, his shiny 
face with its mustache, when he, for example, under 
the influence of liquor, took the balald'ika, or three- 
stringed guitar of the Ukraina, into his strong hands, 
and, carelessly glancing to this side and that, played 
some love-song, or with his cloak thrown over his 
shoulders, and the orders dangling from it, and his 
hands thrust into the pockets of his blue nankeen 
trousers, he rolled along the street ; it was necessary 
to see his expression of martial pride, and his scorn 
for all that did not pertain to the military, — to com- 
prehend how absolutely impossible it was for him to 
compare himself at such moments with the rude or 
the simply insinuating servant, the Cossack, the foot- 
soldier, or the volunteer, especially those who did not 
belong to the artillery. He quarrelled aud was tur- 
bulent, not so much for his own pleasure as for the 
sake of upholding the spirit of all soldierhood, of which 
he felt himself to be'the protector. 

The third soldier, with ear-rings in his ears, with 
bristling mustaches, goose-flesh, and a porcelain pipe 
in his lips, crouching on his heels in front of the bonfire, 
was the artillery-rider Chikin. The dear man Chikin, 
as the soldiers called ^im, was a jester. In bitter cold, 
up to his knees in the mud, going without food two 
days at a time, on the march, on parade, undergoing 
instruction, the dear man always and everywhere 
screwed his face into grimaces, executed flourishes 
with his legs, and poured out such a flood of nonsense 
that the whole platoon would go into fits of laughter. 
During a halt or in camp Chikin had always around 
him a group of young soldiers, whom he either played 



56 THE WOOD-CUTTfNG EXPEDITION. 

cards with, or amused with tales about some sly soldier 
or English milord, or by imitating the Tatar and the 
German, or simply b}'^ making his jokes, at which every- 
body nearly died with laughter. It was a fact, that his 
reputation as a joker was so widespread in the battery, 
that he had only to open his mouth and wink, and he 
would be rewarded with a universal burst of guffaws ; 
but he really had a great gift for the comic and unex- 
pected. In every thing he had the wit to see something 
remarkable, &uch as never came into anybody else's 
head ; and, what is more important, this talent for see- 
ing something ridiculous never failed under any trial. 

The fourth soldier was an awkward 3'oung fellow, a 
recruit of the last year's draft, and he was now serving 
in an expedition for the first time. He was standing 
in the very smoke, and so close to the fire that it 
seemed as if his well-worn short-coat ^ would catch on 
fire ; but, notwithstanding this, by the way m which 
he had flung open his coat, by his calm, self-satisfied 
pose, with his calves arched out, it was evident that he 
was enjoying perfect happiness. 

And finally, the fifth soldier, sitting some little 
distance from the fire, and whittling a stick, was Uncle 
Zhd^nof. Zhddnof had been in service the longest of 
all the soldiers in the batter}', — knew all the recruits ; 
and everybody, from force of haJ3it, called him dy'd- 
deyika^ or liUle uncle. It was said that he never drank, 
never smoked, never played cards (not even the sol- 
dier's pet game of noski) , and never indulged in bad 
talk. All the time when military duties did not en- 
gross him he worked at his trade of shoemaking ; on 
holidays he went to church wherever it was possible, 
or placed a farthing candle before the image, and read 

^ polushubochek, little half shicba. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 57 

the psalter, the only book in which he cared to read. 
He had little to do with the other soldiers, — with those 
higher in ranK, — though to the younger officers he was 
coldly respectful. With his equals, since he did not 
drink, he had little reason for social intercourse ; but 
he was extremely fond of recruits and young soldiers : 
he always protected them, read them their lessons, and 
often helped them. All in the battery considered him 
a capitalist, because he had twenty-five rubles, wliich 
he willingly loaned to any soldier who really needed it. 
That same Maksimof who was now artillerist used to 
tell me that when, ten years before, he had come as a 
recruit, and the old drunken soldiers helped him to 
drink up the money that he had, Zhddnof, pitying his 
unhappy situation, took him home with him, severel}' 
upbraided him for his behavior, even administered a 
castigation, read him the lesson about the duties of 
a soldier's life, and sent him away after presenting 
him with a shirt (for Maksimof hadn't one to his 
back) and a half-ruble piece. 

" He made a man of me," Maksimof used to nay, 
always with respect and gratitude in his tone. He 
had also taken Velenchuk's part always, ever since he 
came as a recruit, and had helped him at the time of 
his misfortune about the lost cloak, and had helped 
many, many others during the course of his twenty-five 
years* service. 

In the service it was impossible to find a soldier who 
knew his business better, who was braver or more 
obedient ; but he was too meek and homely to be 
chosen as an artillerist,^ though he had been bombar- 
dier fifteen years. Zhddnof's one pleasure, and even 
passion, was music. He was exceedinglj^ fond of some 

1 /eierverker. 



58 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXTEDITION. 

songs, and he always gathered round him a circle of 
singers from among the young soldiers j and though 
he himself could not sing, he stood with them, and put- 
ting his hands into the pockets of his short-coat,^ and 
shutting his eyes, expressed his contentment by the 
motions of his head and cheeks. I know not why it 
was, that in that regular motion of the cheeks under the 
mustache, a peculiarity which I never saw in any one 
else, I found unusual expression. His head white as 
snow, his mustache dyed black, and his brown, wrinkled 
face, gave him at first sight a stern and gloomy appear- 
ance ; but as you looked more closely into his great 
round eyes, especially when they smiled (he never" 
smiled with his lips), something extraordinarily sweet 
and almost childlike suddenly struck you. 

> polunhubka. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 59 



IV. 



"Alas! I have forgotten my pipe; that's a mis- 
fortune, fellows," repeated Velenchiik. 

"But you should smoke cikarettes,^ dear man," 
urged Chikin, screwing up his mouth, and winking. 
" I always smoke cikarettes at home : it's sweeter." 

Of course, all joined in the laugh. 

" So you forgot your pipe? " interrupted Maksimof, 
proudly knocking out the ashes from his pipe into the 
palm of his left hand, and not paying any attention 
to the universal laughter, in which even the officers 
joined. "You lost it somewhere here, didn't you, 
Velenchuk?'* 

Velenchuk wheeled to right face at liim, started to 
lift his hand to his cap, and then dropped it again. 

" You see, you haven't woke iip from your last even- 
ing's spree, so that you didn't get your sleep out. 
For such work you deserve a good raking." 

" Ma}' I drop dead on this very spot, Feodor Mak- 
simovitch, if a single drop passed my lips. I myself 
don't know what got into me," replied Velenchuk. 
"How glad I should have been to get drunk! " he 
muttered to himself. 

'' All right. But one is responsible to the chief for 
his brother's conduct, and when you behave this way 
it's perfectl}' abominable," said the eloquent Maksi- 
mof savagely, but still in a more gentle tone. 

1 aikhdrki. 



60 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

"Well, here is something strange, fellows," con- 
tinued Velenchuk after a moment's silence, scratching 
the back of his head, and not addressing any one in 
particular; " fact, it's strange, fellows. I have been 
sixteen 3'ears in the service, and have not had such a 
thing happen to me. As we were told to get ready 
for a march, I got up, as my duty behooved. There 
was nothing at all, when suddenly in the park it came 
over me — came over me more and more ; laid me out 
— laid me out on the ground — and every thing. . . . 
And when I got asleep, I did not hear a sound, fel- 
lows. It must have been that I fainted away,'* he 
said in conclusion. 

'' At all events, it took all my strength to wake you 
up," said Antonof, as he pulled on his boot. " I 
pushed 3^ou, and pushed you. You slept like a log." 

'' See here," remarked V^elenchuk, '^ if I had been 
drunk" . . . 

" Like a peasanf- woman we had at home," inter- 
rupted Chikin. '' For almost two years running she 
did not get down from the big oven. They tried to 
wake her u[) one time, for they thought she was asleep ; 
but there she was, Ij'ing just as though she was dead : 
the same kind of sleep you had — isn't that so, dear 
man ? ' * 

" Just tell us, Chikin, how you led the fashion the 
time when you had leave of absence," said Maksimof, 
smiling, and winking at me as much as to say, '' Don't 
you like to hear what the foolish fellow has to saj'? " 

"How led the fashion, Feodor Maksimuitch ? " 
asked Chikin. casting a quick side glance at me. "Of 
course, I merely told what kind of people we are here 
in the Kapkas."^ 

I Kaphas for Eavkas, Caucasus. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 61 

"Well, then, that's so, that's so. You are not a 
fashion leader . . . but just tell us. how you made 
them think you were commander." 

" You know how I becanje commander for them. I 
was asked how we live," began Chikin, speaking rap- 
idly, like a man who has often told the same story. 
" I said, 'We live well, dear man : we have plenty of 
victuals. At morning and night, to our delight all we 
soldiers get our chocolet;^ and then at dinner every 
sinner has his imperial soup of barley groats, and 
instead of vodka, Madeira at each plate, genuine old 
Modeira in the cask, forty -second degree ! ' " 

''Fine Modeira!" replied Velenchiik louder than 
the others, and with a burst of laughter. '' Let's have 
some of it." 

"Well, then, what did you have to tell them about 
the Esiatics?" said Maksimof, carrying his inquiries 
still further, as the general merriment subsided. 

Chikin bent down to the fire, picked up a coal with 
his stick, put it on his pipe, and, as though not noticing 
the discreet curiosity aroused in his hearers, puffed for 
a long time in silence. 

When at last he had raised a sufficient cloud of 
smoke, he threw away the coal, pushed his cap still 
farther on the back of his head, and making a grimace, 
and with an almost imperceptible smile, he continued : 
" They asked," said he, " 'What kind of a person is 
the little Cherk^s yonder? or is it the Turk that you are 
fighting with in the Kapkas country ? ' I tell 'em, ' The 
Cherk^s here with us is not of one sort, but of differ- 
ent sorts. Some are like the mountaineers who live 
on the rocky mountain-tops, and eat stones instead of 
bread. The biggest of them,' I say, ' are exactly like 

^ shchikoldta id*y6t na solddtd. 



62 THE WOODr-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

big logs, with one eye in the middle of the forehead, 
and they wear red caps ; ' they glow like fire, just as 
you do, my dear fellow," he added, addressing a young 
recruit, who, in fact, wore an odd little cap with a red 
crown. 

The recruit, at this unexpected sally, suddenly sat 
down on the ground, slapped his knees, and burst out 
laughing and coughing so that he could hardly com- 
mand his voice to say, " That's the kind of mountain- 
eers we have here." 

*' 'And,' says I, 'besides, there are the mumri,' " 
continued Chikin, jerking his head so that his hat fell 
forward on his forehead ; " ' they go out in pairs, like 
little twins, — these others. Every thing comes double 
with them,' says I, ' and they cling hold of each other's 
hands, and run so queek that I tell you you couldn't 
catch up with them on horseback. ' — 'Well,' says he, 
'these mumri who are so small as you say, I suppose 
they are born hand in hand?' " said Chikin, endeavor- 
ing to imitate the deep throaty voice of the peasant. 
" ' Yes,' says I, ' my dear man, they are so by nature. 
You try to pull their hands apart, and it makes 'em 
bleed, just as with the Chinese : when you pull their 
caps off , the blood comes.' — 'But tell us,' says he, 
' how they kill any one.' — 'Well, this is the way,' says 
I : ' they take you, and they rip you all up, and they 
reel out your bowels in their hands. They reel 'em 
out, and you defy them and defy them — till 3^our 
soul'" . . . 

"Well, now, did they believe any thing j'ou said, 
Chikin?" asked Maksimof with a slight smile, when 
those standing round had stopped laughing. 

" And indeed it is a strange people, Feodor Maksi- 
muitch: they believe every one ; before God, they do. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 63 

But still, when I began to tell them about Mount Kazbek, 
and how the snow does not melt all summer there, they 
all burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. ' What 
a story ! ' they said. ' Could such a thing be possible, 
— a mountain so big that the snow does not melt on 
it? ' And I say, ' With us, when the thaw comes, there 
is such a heap ; and even after it begins to melt, the 
snow lies in the hollows.* — ' Go away,' " said Chikin, 
with a concluding wink. 



64 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 



f 



The bright disk of the sun, gleaming through the 
milk-white mist, had now got well up ; the purple-gray 
horizon gradually widened : but, though the view be- 
came more extended, still it was sharply defined by 
the delusive white wall of the fog. 

In front of us, on the other side of the forest, could 
be seen a good-sized field. Over the field there spread 
from all sides the smoke, here black, here milk-white, 
here purple ; and strange forms swept through the 
white folds of the mist. Far in the distance, from 
time to time, groups of mounted Tatars showed them- 
selves ; and the occasional reix)rts from our lifles, 
guns, and cannon were heard. 

"This isn't any thing at all of an action — mere 
boys' play," said the good Captain Khlopof. 

The commander of the ninth company of cavalry,* 
who was with us as escort, rode up to our cannon, and 
pointing to three mounted Tatars who were just then 
riding under cover of the forest, more than six hun- 
dred sazhens from us, asked me to give them a shot 
or a shell. His request was an illustration of the 
love universal among all infantry officers for artillery 
practice. 

*' You see," said he, with a kindly and convincing 
smile, laying his hand on my shoulder, *' where those 
two big trees are, right in front of us : one is on a white 

* jdgers. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 65 

horse, and dressed in a black Circassian coat ; and 
directly behind him are two more. Do you see? If 
you please, we must" . . . 

'' And there are three others riding along under the 
lee of the forest," interrupted Antonof, who was dis- 
tinguished for his sharp eyes, and had now joined us 
with the pipe that he had been smoking concealed be- 
hind his back. " The front one has just taken his car- 
bine from its case. It's easy to see, your Excellency." 

'' Ha! he fired then, fellows. See the white puff of 
smoke," said Velenchuk to a group of soldiers a little 
back of us. 

''He must be aiming at us, the blackguard!" re- 
plied some one else. 

" See, those fellows only come out a little way from 
the forest. We see the place : we want to aim a 
cannon at it," suggested a third. " If we could only 
hlant a krenade into the midst of 'em, it would scatter 
'em." . . . 

" And what makes you think you could shoot to 
such a tistance, dear man? " asked Chikin. 

"Only five hundred or five hundred and twenty 
sazliens — it can't be less than that," said Maksimof 
coolly, as though he were speaking to himself ; but it 
was evident that he, like the others, was terribl}' anx- 
ious to bring the guns into play. " If the howitzer is 
aimed up at an angle of forty-five degrees, then it 
will be possible to reach that spot ; that is perfectly 
possible." 

" You know, now, that if you aim at that group, it 

would infallibly hit some one. There, there ! as they 

are riding along now, please hurrj' up and order the 

gun to be fired," continued the cavalry commander, 

/ beseeching me. 



66 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

" Will you give the order to limber the gun? ** asked 
Antonof suddenly, in a jerky base voice, with a slight 
touch of surliness in his manner. 

I confess that I myself felt a strong desire for this, 
and I commanded the second cannon to be unlimbered. 

The words had hardly left my mouth ere the bomb 
was ix)wdered and rammed home ; and Antonof, cling- 
ing to the gun-cheek, and leaning his two fat fingers on 
the carriage, was already getting the gun into position. 

*-'- Little . . . little more to the left — now a little to 
the right — now, now the least bit more — there, that's 
right," said he with a proud face, turning from the 
gun. 

The infantry officer, myself, and Maksimof, in turn 
sighted along the gun, and all gave expression to 
various opinions. 

''By God! it will miss," said Velenchuk, clicking 
with his tongue, although he could only see over 
Ant6nof*s shoulder, and therefore had no basis for 
such a surmise. 

'• By-y-y God ! it will miss : it will hit that tree 
right in front, fellows." 

'' Two ! *' I commanded. 

The men about the gun scattered. Antonof ran to 
one side, so as to follow the flight of the ball. There' 
was a flash and a ring of brass. At the same instant 
we were enveloi>ed in gunpowder smoke ; and after 
the startling report, was heard the metallic, whizzing 
sound of the ball rushing off quicker than lightning, 
amid the universal silence and dying away in the 
distance. 

Just a little behind the gioup of horeemen a white 
puff of smoke apjxiared ; the Tatars scattered in all 
directions, and then Ih..' sound of a crash came to us. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 67 

" Capitally done ! " " Ah ! they take to their heels ; " 
" See ! the devils don't like it," were types of the ex- 
clamations and jests heard among the ranks pi the 
artillery and infantry. 

" If you had aimed a trifle lower, you'd have hit 
right in the midst of /lim," remarked Velenchuk. " I 
said it would strike the tree : it did ; it took the one at 
the right." 



68 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 



VI. 

Leaving the soldiers to argue about the Tatars 
taking to flight when they saw the shell, and why it was 
that they came there, and whether there were many in 
the forest, I went with the cavalry commander a few 
steps aside, and sat down under a tree, expecting to 
have some warmed chops which he had offered me. 
The cavalry commander, Bolkhof, was one of the offi- 
cers who are called in the regiment hoiijour-oli. He 
had property, had served before in the guards, and 
spoke French. But, in spite of this, his comrades liked 
him. He was rather intellectual, had tact enough to 
wear his Petersburg overcoat, to eat a good dinner, and 
to speak French without too much offending the sensi- 
bilities of his brother officers. As we talked about the 
weather, about the events of the war, about the officers 
known to us both, and as we became convinced, by 
our questions and answers, by our views of things in 
general, that we were mutually sympathetic, we iuvoluu; 
taril}' fell into more intimate conversation. Moreover, 
in the Caucasus, among men who meet in one circle, 
the question invariabl}^ arises, though it is not always 
expressed, "Why are you here?'* and it seemed to 
me that my companion was desirous of satisfying this 
inarticulate question. 

" When will this expedition end? " he asked lazily: 
"it's tiresome." 

" It isn't to me," I said : " it's much more so serv- 
ing on the staff." 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 69 

"Oh, on the staff it's ten thousand times worse ! '* 
said he fiercely. "No, I mean when will this sort of 
thing end altogether? " 

" What ! do you wish that it would end? " I asked. 

" Yes, all of it, altogether ! . . . Well, are the chops 
ready, Nikolaief ? " he inquired of his servant. 

" Why do you serve in the Caucasus, then," I asked, 
" if the Caucasus does not please you? " 

" You know wh}'," he replied with an outburst of 
frankness: " on account of tradition. In Russia, you 
see, there exists a strange tradition about the Caucasus, 
as though it were the promised laud for all sorts of 
unhappy people." 

"Well," said I, "it's almost true: the majority of 
us here "... 

" But what is better than all," said he, interrupting 
me, " is, that all of us who come to the Kavkas are 
fearfully deceived in our calculations ; and really, I 
don't see why, in consequence of disappointment in love 
or disorder in one's affairs, one should come to serve 
in the Caucasus rather than in Kazan or Kaluga. You 
see, in Russia they imagine the Kavkas as something 
immense, — everlasting virgin ice-fields, with impetuous 
streams, with daggers, cloaks, Circassian girls, — all 
that is strange and wonderful ; but in reality there is 
nothing gay in it at all. If they only knew, for example, 
that we have never been on the virgin ice-fields, and 
that there was nothing gay in it at all, and that the Cau- 
casus was divided into the districts of Stavropol, Tiflis, 
and so forth "... 

"Yes," said I, laughing, "when we are in Russia 
we look upon the Caucasus in an absolutely different 
way from what we do here. Haven't you ever noticed 
it: when you read poetry in a language that 3'OU don't 



70 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

know very well, you imagine it much better than it 
really is, don't you ? " 

*' I don't know how that is, but this Caucasus 
doesn't please me," he said, interrupting me. 

"It isn't so with me," I said: "the Caucasus is 
delightful to me now, but only "... 

" Maybe it is delightful," he continued with a touch 
of asperity, " but 1 know that it is not delightful to 
me." 

" Why not? " I asked, with a view of saying some- 
thing. 

"In the first place, it has deceived me — all that 
which I expected, from tradition, to be delivered of m 
the Caucasus, I find in me just the same here, only 
with this distinction, that before, it was all on a larger 
scale, but now on a small and nasty scale, at each round 
of which I find a million petty annoyances, worriments, 
and miseries ; in the second place, because I find that 
each day I am falling morally lower and lower ; and 
principally because I feel myself incapable of service 
here — I cannot endure to face the danger . . . simply, 
I am a coward." . . . 

He got up and looked at me earnestly. 

Though this unbecoming confession completely took, 
me by surprise, I did not contradict him, as my mess- 
mate evidently expected me to do ; but I awaited from 
the man himself the refutation of his words, which is 
always ready in such circumstances. 

"You know to-day's expedition is the first time 
that I have taken part in action," he continued, " and 
you can imagine what my evening was. When the ser- 
geant brought the order for my company to join the 
column, I became as pale as a sheet, and could not 
utter a word from emotion ; and if you knew how I 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 71 

Spent the night! If it is true that people turn gray 
from fright, then I ought to be perfectly white-headed 
to-da3s because no man condemned to death ever suf- 
fered so much from terror in a single night as 1 did : 
even now, though I feel a little more at my ease than 
I did last night, still it goes here in me," he added, 
pressing his hand to his heart. " And what is absurd," 
he went on to say, " while this fearful drama is playing 
here, I myself am eating chops and onions, and trying 
to persuade myself tliat I am very gay. ... Is there 
any wine, Nikokiief ? " he added with a yawn. 

" There he is, fellows I " shouted one of the soldiers 
at this moment in a tone of alarm, and all eyes were 
fixed upon the edge of the far-off forest. 

In the distance a puff of bluish smoke took shape, 
and, rising up, drifted away on the wind. When I 
realized that the enemy were firing at us, every thing 
that was in the range of my eyes at that moment, everj' 
thing suddenly assumed a new and majestic character. 
The stacked muskets, and the smoke of the bonfires, and 
the blue sky, and the green gun-carriages, and Niko- 
laief's sunburned, mustachioed face, — all this seemed 
to tell me that the shot which at that instant emerged 
from the smoke, and was flying through space, might be 
directed straight at my breast. 

" Where did 3'ou get the wine? " I meanwhile asked 
Bolkhof carelessly, while hi the depths of my soul 
two voices were speaking with equal distinctness ; one 
said, ''Lord, take my soul in peace;" the other, "I 
hope I shall not duck my head, but smile while the ball 
is coming." And at that instant something horribly 
unpleasant whistled above O'.ir heads, and the shot came 
crashing to the ground not two paces away from us. 

'• Now, if I were Na[K)leon or Frederick the Great," 



72 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

said Bolkhof at this time, with perfect composure, 
turning to me, "* I should certainly have said something 
graceful." 

'' But that you have just done," I replied, hiding 
with some difficulty the panic which I felt at being 
exposed to such a danger. 

'' Why, what did I say? No one will put it on 
record." 

" I'll put it on record." 

" Yes : if you put it on record, it will be in the way 
of criticism, as Mishchenkof says," he replied with a 
smile. 

" Tfa! you devils ! " exclaimed Antonof in vexation 
just behind us, and spitting to one side ; '' it just missed 
my leg." 

All my solicitude to appear cool, and all our refined 
phrases, suddenly seemed to me unendurably stupid 
after this artless exclamation. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 73 



VII. 



The enemy, in fact, had posted two cannon on the 
spot where the Tatars had been scattered, and every 
twenty or thirty minntes sent a shot at our wood- 
choppers. My division was sent out into the field, and 
ordered to reply to him. At the skirt of the forest a 
puff of smoke would show itself, the report would be 
heard, then the whiz of the ball, and the shot would 
bury itself behind us or in front of us. The enemy's 
shots were placed fortunately for us, and no loss was 
sustained. 

The artillerists, as always, behaved admirably, loaded 
rapidly, aimed carefully wherever the smoke appeared, 
and jested unconcernedly with each other. The in- 
fantry escort, in silent inactivity, were lying around us, 
awaiting their turn. The wood-cutters were bus}^ at 
their work ; their axes resounded through the forest 
more and more rapidly, more and more eagerly-, save 
when the svist of a cannon-shot was heard, then sud- 
denly the sounds ceased, and amid the deathlike still- 
ness a voice, not altogether calm, would exclaim, 
*' Stand aside, boysl " and all eyes would be fastened 
upon the shot ricocheting upon the wood-piles and the 
brush. 

The fog was now completely lifted, and, taking the 
form of clouds, was disappearmg slowly in the dark- 
blue vault ol heaven. The unclouded orb of the sun 
shone bright, and threw its cheerful rays on the steei of 



•74 TEE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

the bayonets, the brass of the cannon, on the thawing 
ground, and the glittering points of the icicles. The 
atmosphere was brisk with the morning frost and the 
warmth of the spring sun. Thousands of different 
shades and tints mingled in the dry leaves of the for- 
est ; and on the hard, shining level of the road could be 
seen the regular tracks of wheel-tires and horse-shoes. 

The action between the armies grew more and more 
violent and more strikmg. In all directions the bluish 
puffs of smoke from the firing became more and more 
frequent. The dragoons, with bannerets waving from 
their lances, kept riding to the front. In the infantry 
companies songs resounded, and the train loaded with 
wood began to form itself as the rearguard. The 
general rode up to our division, and ordered us to be 
ready for the return. The enemy got into the bushes 
over against our left flank, and began to pour a heavy 
musketry-fire into us. P>om the left-hand side a ball 
came whizzing from the forest, and buried itself in a 
gun-carriage ; then -a second, a third. . . . The in- 
fantry guard, scattered around us, jumped up with a 
shout, seized their muskets, and took aim. The crack- 
ing of the musketry was redoubled, and the bullets 
began to fly thicker and faster. The retreat had begun,' 
and the present attack was the result, as is always the 
"case in the Caucasus. 

It became perfectly manifest that the artillerists did 
not like the bullets as well as the infantry had liked 
the solid shot. Antonof jmt on a deep frown. Chikin 
imitated the sound of the Inillets, and fired his jokes 
at them ; but it was evident that he did not like 
them. In regard to one he said, " What a hurry it's 
in ! " another he called a " honey-bee ; " a third, which 
flew over us with a sort of slow and lugubrious drone, 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 75 

he called an " orphan," — a term which raised general 
amusement. 

The recruit, who had the habit of bending his head 
to one side, and stretching out his neck, every time he 
heard a bullet, was also a source of amusement to the 
soldiers, who said, "Who is it? some acquaintance 
that you are bowing to?" And Velenchiik, who 
always showed perfect equanimitj^ in time of danger, 
was now in an alarming state of mind ; he was mani- 
festly vexed because we did not send some canister 
in the direction from which the bullets came. He 
more than once exclaimed in a discontented tone, 
" What is he allowed to shoot at us with impunity for? 
If we could only answer with some grape, that would 
silence him, take my word for it." 

In fact, it was time to do this. I ordered the last 
shell to be fired, and to load with grape. 

" Grape ! " shouted Antonof bravely in the midst of 
.the smoke, coming up to the gun with his sponge as 
soon as the discharge was made. 

At this moment, not far behind us, I heard the 
quick whiz of a bullet suddenly striking something 
with a dry thud. My heart sank within me. "Some 
one of our men must have been struck," I said to my- 
self ; but at the same time I did not dare to turn round, 
under the influence of this powerful presentiment. 
True enough, immediately after this sound the heavy 
fall of a body was heard, and the " o-o-o-oi," —the 
heart-rending groan of the wounded man. "I'm hit, 
fellows," remarked a voice which I knew. It was 
Velenchuk. He was lying on his back between the 
limbers and the gun. Tlie cartridge-box which he 
carried was flung to one side. His forehead was all 
bloody, and over his right eye and his nose flowed a 



76 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

thick red stream. The wound was in his body, but it 
bled very little ; he had hit his forehead on something 
when he fell. 

All this I perceived after some little time. At the 
first instant I saw only a sort of obscure mass, and a 
terrible quantity of blood as it seemed to me. 

None of the soldiers who were loading the gun said 
a word, — only the recruit muttered between his teeth, 
''See, how bloody!" and Antonof, frowning still 
blacker, snorted angrily ; but all the time it was evi- 
dent that the thought of death presented itself to the 
mind of each. All took hold of their work with great 
activity. The gun was discharged every instant ; and 
the gun-captain, in getting the canister, went two steps 
around the place where lay the wounded man, now 
groaning constantly. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 77 



VIII. 

Every one who has been in action has doubtless ex- 
perienced the strange although illogical but still power- 
ful feeling of repulsion for the place in which any one 
has been killed or wounded. My soldiers were notice- 
ably affected by this feeling at the first moment when 
it became necessary to lift Velenchuk and carry him 
to the wagon which had driven up. Zhddnof angril}' 
went to the sufferer, and, notwithstanding his cry of 
anguish, took him under his arms and lifted him. 
*^ What are you standing there for? Help lug him ! '* 
he shouted ; and instantly the men sprang to his assist- 
ance, some of whom could not do any good at all. But 
they had scarcely started to move him from the place 
when Velenchuk began to scream fearfully and to 
struggle. 

"What are you screeching for, like a rabbit?" 
said Antonof, holding him roughly by the leg. " If 
you don't stop we'll drop you." 

And the sufferer really calmed down, and only occa- 
sionally cried out, " Okh! I'm dead! o-oM, fellows! ^ 
I'm dead!" 

As soon as they laid him in the wagon, he ceased to 
groan, and I heard that he said something to his com- 
rades — it must have been a farewell — in a weak but 
audible voice. 

Indeed, no one likes to look at a wounded man ; and 

1 hratsui mo'i. 



78 TRE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

I, instinctively hastening to get away from this specta- 
cle, ordered the men to take him as soon as possible 
to a suitable place, and then return to the guns. But 
in a few minutes I was told that Velenchuk was asking 
for me, and I returned to the ambulance. 

The wounded man lay on the wagon bottom, hold- 
ing the sides with both hands. His healthy, broad 
face had in a few seconds entirely changed ; he had, 
as it were, grown gaunt, and older by several years. 
His lips were pinched and white, and tightly com- 
pressed, with evident effort at self-control ; his glance 
had a quick and feeble expression ; but in his eyes 
was a peculiarly clear and tranquil gleam, and on his 
blood-stained forehead and nose already lay the seal 
of death. 

In spite of the fact that the least motion caused him 
unendurable anguish, he was trying to take from his 
left leg his purse, ^ which contained money. 

A fearfully burdensome thought came into my mind 
when I saw his bare, white, and healthy-looking leg as 
he was taking off his boot and untying his purse. 

'' There are three silver rubles and a Miy-kopek 
piece," he said when I took the girdle-purse. " You 
keep them." 

The ambulance had started to move, but he stopped 
it. 

"I was working on a cloak for Lieutenant Suli- 
movsky. He had paid me two-o-o silver rubles. I 
spent one and a half on buttons, but half a ruble lies 
with the buttons in my bag. Give them to him." 

"Very good, I will," said I. "Keep up good 
hopes, brother." 

1 cheres; diminutive, cheresok,'—a leather purse in the form of a girdle, 
which soldiers wear usually under the knee. — AtJTHOR's Note. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 79 

He did not answer me ; the wagon moved away, and 
he began once more to groan, and to exclaim " Olh! " 
in the same terribly heart-rending tone. As though 
he had done with earthly things, he felt that he had 
no longer any pretext for self-restraint, and he now 
considered this alleviation permissible. 



80 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION, 



IX. 



"Where are you off to? Come back! Where are 
you going? " I shouted to the recruit, who, carrying in 
his arms his reserve linstock, and a sort of cane in his 
hand, was calmly marching off toward the ambulance 
in which the wounded man was carried. 

But the recruit lazily looked up at me, and kept on 
his way, and 1 was obliged to send a soldier to bring 
him back. He took off his red cap, and looked at 
me with a stupid smile. 

" Where were you going? "I asked. 

"To camp." 

"Why?" 

"Because — they have wounded Velenchuk," he 
replied, still smiling. 

" What has that to do with you? It's your business 
to stay here." 

He looked at me in amazement, then coolly turned 
round, put on his cap, and went to his place. 

The result of the action had been fortunate. The 
Cossacks, it was reported, had made a brilliant attack, 
and had captured three bodies of the Tatars ; the 
infantry had laid in a store of firewood, and had 
suffered in all a loss of six men wounded. In the 
artillery, from the whole array only Velenchuk and 
two horses were put lio*rs du combat. Moreover, they 
had cut the forest for three versts, and cleared a place, 
so that it was impossible to recognize it; now, in- 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 81 

stead of a seemingly impenetrable forest girdle, a 
great field was opened up, covered with heaps of 
smoking bonfires, and lines of infantry and cavalry on 
their way to camp. Notwithstanding the fact that the 
enemy incessantly harassed us with cannonade and 
musketry, and followed us down to the very river 
where the cemetery was, that we had crossed in the 
morning, the retreat was successfully managed. 

I was already beginning to dream of the cabbage- 
soup and rib of mutton with kasha gruel that were 
awaiting me at the camp, when the word came, that 
the general had commanded a redoubt to be thrown up 
on the river-bank, and that the third battalion of 
regiment K, and a division of the fourth battery, 
should stay behind till the next day for that purpose. 
The wagons with the firewood and the wounded, the 
Cossacks, the artillery, the infantry with muskets and 
fagots on their shoulders, — all with noise and songs 
passed by us. On the faces of all shone enthusiasm 
and content, caused by the return from peril, and hope 
of rest; only we and the men of the third battalion 
were obliged to postpone these joyful feelings till the 
morrow. 



82 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 



X. 



While we of the artillery were busy about the guus, 
disposing the limbers and ciaissons, and picketing the 
horses, the foot-soldiers had stacked their arms, piled 
up bonfires, made shelters of boughs and cornstalks, 
and were cooking their grits. 

It began to grow dark. Across the sky swept 
bluish-white clouds. The mist, changing into fine 
drizzling fog, began to wet the ground and the sol- 
diers' cloaks. The horizon became contracted, and all 
our surroundings took on gloomy shadows. The damp- 
ness which I felt through my boots and on my neck, 
the incessant motion and chatter in which I took no 
part, the sticky mud with which my legs were covered, 
and my empty stomach, all combined to arouse in me 
a, most uncomfortable and disagreeable frame of mind 
after a day of physical and moral fatigue. Velenchuk 
did not go out of my mind. The whole simple story^ 
of his soldier's life kept repeating itself before my 
imagination. 

His last moments were as unclouded and peaceful 
as all the rest of his life. He had lived too honestly 
and simply for his artless faith in the heavenly life to 
come, to be shaken at the decisive moment. 

'* Your health," said Nikolaief, coming to me. 
*' The captain begs you to be so kind as to come and 
drink tea with him." 

Somehow making my way between stacks of arms 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 83 

and the camp-fires, I followed Nikolaief to where 
Captain Bolkhof was, and felt a glow of satisfac- 
tion in dreaming about the glass of hot tea and the 
gay converse which should drive away my gloomy 
thoughts. 

'^ Well, has he come?" said Bolkhof 's voice from 
his cornstalk wigwam, in which the light was gleaming. 

'^ He is here, your honor," ^ replied Nikolaief in his 
deep bass. 

In the hut, on a dry burka, or Cossack mantle, sat 
the captain in neglig^, and without his cap. Near 
him the samovar was smging, and a drum was stand- 
ing, loaded with lunch. A bayonet stuck into the 
ground held a candle. 

'^ How is this?" he said with some pride, glancing 
around his comfortable habitation. In fact, it was so 
pleasant in his wigwam, that, while we were at tea I 
absolutely forgot about the dampness, the gloom, 
and Velenchiik's wound. We talked about Moscow 
and subjects that had no relation to the war or the 
Caucasus. 

After one of the moments of silence which some- 
times interrupt the most lively conversations, Bolkhof 
looked at me with a smile. 

" Well, I suppose our talk this morning must have 
seemed very strange to you? " said he. 

''No. Why should it? It only seemed to me that 
3'ou were very frank ; but there are things which wCiftU 
know, but which it is not necessary to speak about." 

"Oh, 3'ou are mistaken! If there were only some 
possibility of exchanging this life for any sort of life, 
no matter how tame and mean, but free from danger 
and service, I would not hesitate a minute." 

1 vdshie blagor6di€. 



84 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

*'Why, then, don't you go back to Russia?*' I 
asked. 

'^ Why? " he repeated. " Oh, I have been thinking 
about that for a long time. I can't return to Russia 
until I have won the Anna and Vladimir, wear the 
Anna ribbon around my neck, and am major, as I ex- 
pected when I came here." 

'* Why not, pray, if you feel that you are so unfitted 
as you say for service here ? ' ' 

" Simpl}' because I feel still more unfitted to return 
to Russia the same as I came. That also is one of the 
traditions existing in Russia which were handed down 
by Passek, Sleptsof, and others, — that you must go to 
the Caucasus, so as to come home loaded with rewards. 
And all of us are expecting and working for this ; but 
1 have been here two years, have taken part in two 
expeditions, and haven't won any thing. But still, I 
have so much vanity that I shall not go away from here 
until I am,, major, and have the Vladimir and Anna 
around my neck. I am already accustomed to having 
QVQvy thing avoid me, when even Gnilokishkin gets 
promoted, and I don't. And so how could I show 
myself in Russia before the eyes of my elder, the 
merchant Kotelnikof , to whom I sell wheat, or to my 
aunty in Moscow, and all those people, if I had served 
two years in the Caucasus without getting promoted ? 
It is true that I don't wish to know these people, and, 
of ^course, they don't care very much about me ; but a 
man is so constituted, that though I don't wish to 
know them, yet on account of them I am wasting 
my best years, and destroying all the happiness of my 
life, and all my future." 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 85 



XI. 



At this moment the voice of the battalion com- 
mander wa^ heard on the outside, saying, " Who is it 
with you, Nikoldi Feodorovitch ? " Bolkhof men- 
tioned my name, and in a moment three officers came 
into the wigwam, — Major Kirsdnof, the adjutant of 
his battalion, and company commander Trosenko. 

Kirsdnof was a short, thick-set fellow, with black 
mustaches, ruddy cheeks, and little oily eyes. His 
little eyes were the most noticeable features of his 
physiognomy. When he laughed, there remained of 
them only two moist little stars ; and these little 
stars, together with his pursed-up lips and long neck, 
sometimes gave him a peculiar expression of in- 
sipidity. Kirsdnof considered himself better than 
any one else in the regiment. The under officers 
did not dispute this ; and the chiefs esteemed him, 
although the general impression about him was, 
that he was very dull-witted. He knew his duties, 
was accurate and zealous, kept a carriage and a cook, 
and, naturally enough, managed to pass himself off as 
arrogant. 

" What are you gossiping about, captain? " he asked 
as he came in. 

'' Oh, about the delights of the service here.'* 

But at this instant Kirsdnof caught sight of me, a 
mere yunker ; and in order to make me gather a high 
impression of his knowledge, as though he had not 



86 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

heard Bolkhof s answer, and glancing at the drum, he 
asked, — 

" What, were you tired, captain? '* 

" No. You see, we " . . . began Bolkhof. 

But once more, and it must have been the battalion 
commander's dignity that caused him to interrupt the 
answer, he put a new question : — 

"Well, we had a splendid action to-day, didn't 
we?" 

The adjutant of the battalion was a young fellow 
who belonged to the fourteenth army-rank, and had 
only lately been promoted from the yunker service. 
He was a modest and gentle 3'oung fellow, with a sen- 
sitive and good-natured face. I had met him before 
at Bolkhof's. The young man would come to see him 
often, make him a bow, sit down in a corner, and for 
hours at a time say nothing, and only make cigarettes 
and smoke them ; and then he would get up, make 
another bow, and go away. He was the tj^pe of the 
poor son of the Russian noble family, who has chosen 
the profession of arms as the only one open to him in 
his circumstances, and who values above every thing 
else in the world his official calling, — an ingenuous 
and lovable type, notwithstanding his absurd, indefeasi- 
ble peculiarities : his tobacco-pouch, his dressing-gown, 
his guitar, and his mustache brush, with which we used 
to picture him to ourselves. In the regiment they 
used to say of him that he boasted of being just but 
stern with his servant, and quoted him as saying, "I 
rarely punish ; but when I am driven to it, then let 'em 
beware: " and once, when his servant got drunk, and 
plundered him, and began to rail at his master, they 
say he took him to the guard-house, and commanded 
them to have every thing ready for the chastisement ; 



THE W GOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 87 

but when he saw the preparations, he was so confused, 
that he could only stammer a few meaningless words : 
"Well, nowj-ousee — I might," . . . and, thoroughly 
upset, he set off home, and from that time never dared 
to look into the eyes of his man. His comrades gave 
him no peace, but were always nagging him about 
this ; and I often heard how the ingenuous lad tried 
to defend himself, and, blushing to the roots of 
his hair, avowed that it was not true, but absolutely 
false. 

The third character, Captain Trosenko, was an old 
Caucasian ^ in the full acceptation of the word : that 
is, he was a man for whom the company under his 
command stood for his family ; the fortress where the 
staff was, his home ; and the song-singers his only 
pleasure in life, — a man for whom every thing that 
was not Kavkas was worthy of scorn, yes, was almost 
unworthy of belief ; every thing that was Kavkas was 
divided into two halves, ours and not ours. He 
ioved the first, the second he hated with all the strength 
of his soul. And, above all, he was a man of iron 
nerve, of serene braver}^ of rare goodness and devo- 
tion to his comrades and subordinates, and of desper- 
ate frankness, and even insolence in his bearing, toward 
those who did not please him ; that is, adjutants and 
hon jourists. As he came into the wigwam, he almost 
bumped his head on the roof, then suddenly sank down 
and sat on the ground. 

" WqU, how is it? " ^ said he ; and suddenly becom- 
ing cognizant of my presence, and recognizing me, he 
got up, turning upon me a troubled, serious gaze. 

"Well, why were you talking about that?" asked 
the major, taking out his watch and consulting it, 

1 Kavkdzets. * nu chto f 



88 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

though I verily believe there was not the slightest 
necessity of his doing so. 

'' Well,^ he asked me why I served here." 

"Of course, Nikolai Feodorovitch wants to win 
distinction here, and then go home." 

" Well, now, you tell us, Abram Ilyitch, why you 
serve in the Caucasus." 

"I? Because, as you know, in the first place we 
are all in duty bound to serve. What?" he added, 
though no one spoke. '' Yesterday evening I received 
a letter from Russia, Nikolai P^odorovitch," he contin- 
ued, eager to change the conversation. " They write 
me that . . . what strange questions are asked ! ' * 

" What sort of questions? " asked Bolkhof. 

He blushed. 

"Really, now, strange questions . . . they write 
me, asking, 'Can there be jealousy without love?' 
. . . What?" he asked, looking at us all. 

" How so? " said Bolkhof, smiling. 

"Well, you know, in Russia it's a good thing," he 
continued, as though his phrases followed each other 
in perfectly logical sequence. " When I was at Tam- 
bof in '52 I was invited everywhere, as though I were 
on the emperor's suite. Would you believe me, at a 
ball at the governor's, when I got there . . . well, 
don't you know, I was received very cordially. The 
governor's wife^ herself, you know, talked with me, 
and asked me about the Caucasus ; and so did all 
the rest . . . why, I don't know . . . they looked at 
my gold cap as though it were some sort of curiosity, 
and they asked me how I had won it, and how about 
the Anna and the Vladimir ; and I told them all about 
it. . . . What? That's why the Caucasus is good, 

1 da vot. 2 guberndtorsha. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 89 

Nikoldi Feodorovitch,'* he continued, not waiting for a 
response, " There they look on us Caucasians very 
kindly. A j^oung man, you know, a staff-officer with 
the Anna and Vladimir, — that means a great deal in 
Russia. What?" 

"You boasted a little, I imagine, Abram Ilyitch," 
said Bolkhof . 

'^ He-he," came his silly little laugh in repl3\ 
''You know, you have to. Yes, and didn't I feed 
royally those two months ! " 

'' So it is fine in Russia, is it?" asked Trosenko, 
asking about Russia as though it were China or Japan. 

''Yes, indeed!^ We drank so much champagne 
there in those two months, that it was a terror ! " 

" The idea ! you?*-^ You drank lemonade probably. 
I should have died to show them how the Kavkdzets 
drinks. The glor}- has not been won for nothing. I 
would show them how we drink. . . . Hey, Bolkhof?" 
he added. 

" Yes, you see, you have been already ten years in 
the Caucasus, uncle," said Bolkhof, " and you remem- 
ber what Yermolof said ; but Abram Ilyitch has been 
here only six." . . . 

" Ten years, indeed ! almost sixteen." 

"Let us have some salvia, Bolkhof: it's raw, 
b-rr ! What?" he added, smiling, "shall we drink, 
major? " 

But the major was out of sorts, on account of the 
old captain's behavior to him at first ; and now he 
evidently retired into himself, and took refuge in his 
own greatness. He began to hum some song, and 
again looked at his watch. 

" Well, I shall never go there again," continued Tro- 

* da -8. 2 iiii t/ito vuL 



90 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

senko, paying no heed to the peevish major. '' I have 
got out of the habit of going about and speaking 
Russian. They'd ask, ' AVhat is this wonderful crea- 
ture?' and the answer'd be, 'Asia.' Isn't that so, 
Nikolai Feodoruitch ? And so what is there for me in 
Russia? It's all the same, you'll get shot here sooner 
or later. They ask, ' Where is Trosenko? ' And down 
you go ! AVhat will you do then in the eighth com- 
pany — heh?" he added, continuing to address the 
major. 

''Send the officer of the day to the battalion,'* 
shouted Kirsanof, not answering the captain, though 
I was again compelled to believe that there was no 
necessity upon him of giving any orders. 

" But, young man, I think that you are glad now 
that you are having double pay? " said the major after 
a few moments' silence, addressing the adjutant of the 
battalion. 

" Why, yes, very." 

" I think that our salary is now very large, Nikold'i 
Feodoruitch," he went on to say. "A young man can 
live very comfortably, and even allow himself some 
little luxury." 

" No, truly, Abram Ilyitch," said the adjutant tim- 
idly: "even though we get double pay, it's on\y so 
much ; and you see, one must keep a horse." . . . 

"What is that you say, young man? I myself 
have been an ensign, and I know. Believe me, with 
care, one can live very well. But you must calcu- 
late," he added, tapping his left palm with his little 
finger. 

"We pledge all our salary before it's due: this is 
the way you economize," said Trosenko, drinking down 
a glass of vodka. 




THE WOOD-CUTTJNG EXP 



'' Well, now, 3'GU see that's the very thing. . . . 
AVhat?" 

At this instant at the door of the wigwam appeared 
a white head with a flattened nose ; and a sharp voice 
with a German accent said, — 

'' You there, Abram Ilyitch? The officer of the day 
is hunting for you." 

" Come in, Kraft," said Bolkhof. 

A tall form in the coat of the general's staff entered 
the door, and with remarkable zeal endeavored to shake 
hands with every one. 

"Ah, my dear captain, you here too?" said he, 
addressing Trosenko. 

The new guest, notwithstanding the darkness, rushed 
up to the captain and kissed him on the lips, to his ex- 
treme astonishment, and displeasure as it seemed to me. 

" This is a German who wishes to be a hail fellow 
well met,'* I said to myself. 



92 THE WOOD-CUTTJNG EXPEDITION. 



XII. 



My presumption was immediately confirmed. Cap- 
tain Kraft called for some vodka, which he called corn- 
brandy,^ and threw back his head, and made a terrible 
noise like a duck, in draining the glass. 

'' Well, gentlemen, we rolled about well to-day on 
the plains of the Chetchen," he began ; but, catching 
sight of the officer of the day, he immediately stopped, 
to allow the major to give his directions. 

*' Well, you have made the tour of the lines? *' 

'' I have." 

'^ Are the pickets posted? '* 

''They are." 

'' Then you may order the captain of the guard to be 
as alert as possible." 

'' I will." 

The major blinked his eyes, and went into a brown 
study. 

'' Well, tell the boys to get their supper." 

'' That's what they're doing now." 

'' Good ! then you may go. Well," ^ continued the 
major with a conciliating smile, and taking up the thread 
of the conversation that we had dropi:>ed, " we were 
reckoning what an officer deeded : let us finish the 
calculation.'* 

'' We need one uniform and trousers, don't we? " ^ 

*' Yes. That, let us suppose would amount to fifty 

* gorilka in the Malo- Russian dialect. * nu-a. 8 tak-». 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 93 

rubles every two years ; say, twenty-five rubles a 3'ear 
for dress. Then for eating we need every day at least 
forty kopeks, don't we?^ " 

" Yes, certainly as much as that." 

'' Well, I'll call it so. Now, for a horse and saddle 
for remount, thirty rubles ; that's all. Twenty-five 
and a hundred and twenty and thirty make a hundred 
and seventy-five rubles. All the rest stands for lux- 
uries, — for tea and for sugar and for tobacco, — twenty 
rubles. Will you look it over? . . . It's right, isn't 
it, Nikoldi Feodoruitch ? ' ' 

'-'- Not quite. Excuse me, Abram Ilyitch," said the 
adjutant timidly, '" nothing is left for tea and sugar. 
You reckon one suit for every two years, but here in 
field-service 3'ou can't get along with one pair of panta- 
loons and boots. Why, I wear out a new pair almost 
every month. And then linen, shirts, handkerchiefs, 
and leg- wrappers : all that sort of thing one has to buy. 
And when you have accounted for it, there isn't any 
thing left at all. That's true, by God ! ^ Abram Ilyitch. ' ' 

^^ Yes, it's splendid to wear leg- wrappers," said 
Kraft suddenl}^ after a moment's silence, with a loving 
emphasis on the word "leg-wrappers;"^ " you know 
it's simply Russian fashion." 

"I will tell you," remarked Trosenko, "it all 
amounts to this, that our brother imagines that we have 
nothing to eat ; but the fact is, that we all live, and have 
tea to drink, and tobacco to smoke, and our vodka to 
drink. If 3'ou served with me," he added, turning 
to the ensign, " you would soon learn how to live. I 
suppose you gentlemen know how he treated his den- 

And Trosenko, dying with laughter, told us the 

1 tak-8. * Yei Bogu. * podviortki. 



94 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXFEDITION. 

whole stor}' of the ensign and his man, though we had 
all heard it a thousand times. 

'^ What makes 3^ou look so rosy, brother? " he con- 
tinued, pointing to the ensign, who turned red, broke 
into a perspiration, and smiled with such constraint that 
it was painful to look at him. 

" It's all right, brother. I used to be just like 3^ou ; 
but now, you see, I have become hardened. Just let 
any young fellow come here from Russia, — we have 
seen 'em, — and here they would get all sorts of rheu- 
matism and spasms ; but look at me sittiug here : it's 
my home, and bed, and all. You see" . . . Here 
he drank still another glass of vodka. "Hah?" he 
continued, looking straight into Kraft's eyes. 

" That's what I like in 3-ou. He's a genuine old 
Kavkdzets. Kive us your hant." 

And Kraft pushed through our midst, rushed up to 
Trosenko, and, grasping his hand, shook it with remark- 
able feeling. 

" Yes, we can say that we have had all sorts of ex- 
periences here," he continued. '* In '45 you must 
have been there, captain? Do you remember the night 
of the 24th and 25th, when we camped in mud up to 
our knees, and the next da}- went against the intrench- 
ments? I was then with the commander-in-chief, and 
in one day we captured fifteen intrenchments. Do you 
remember, captain ? ' ' 

Trosenko nodded assent, and, pushing out his lower 
lip, closed his eyes. 

"You ought to have^seen," Kraft began with ex- 
traordinary animation, making awkward gestures with 
his arms, and addressing the major. 

But the major, who must have more than once heard 
this tale, suddenly threw such an expression of muddy 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 95 

stupidity into his eyes, as he looked at his comrade, 
that Kraft turned from him, and addressed Bolkhof 
and me, alternatel}' looking at each of us. But he did 
not once look at Trosenko, from one end of his story 
to the other. 

'' You ought to have seen how in the morning the 
commander-in-chief came to me, and says, ' Kraft, 
take those intrenchments.' You know our military 
duty, — no arguing, hand to visor. ' It shall be done, 
your Excellency,' ^ and I started. As soon as we came 
to the first intrenchment, I turn round, and shout to 
the soldiers, ' Poys, show your mettle ! Pe on your 
guard. The one who stops I shall cut down with my 
own hand.' With Russian soldiers you know you 
have to be plain-spoken. Then suddenly comes a shell 
— I look — one soldier, two soldiers, three soldiers, 
then the bullets — vz-zhin ! vz-zhin ! vz-zhin ! I shout, 
* Forward, boj-s ; follow me ! ' As soon as we reach 
it, you know, I look and see — how it — you know: 
what do 3^ou call it? " and the narrator waved his hands 
in his search for the word. 

'' Rampart," suggested Bolkhof. 

''No. . . . Ach! what is it? My Gcd, now, what 
is it? . . . Yes, rampart," said he quickly. "Then 
clubbing their guns ! . . . hurrah ! ta-ra-ta-ta-ta ! The 
enemy — not a soul was left. Do 3'ou know, they were 
amazed. All right. We rush on — the second intrench- 
ment. This was quite a different affair. Our hearts 
polled within us, you know. As soon as we got there, 
I look and I see the second intrenchment — impossible 
to mount it. There — what was it — what was it we 
just called it? ^c/i/ what was it?" . . . 

" Rampart," again I suggested. 

1 slushdiu, vashe Siydtelstvo. 



96 THE WOOD-CUTTJNG EXPEDITION. 

" Not at all," said he with some heat. " Not ram- 
part. Ah, now, what is it called? " and he made a sort 
of despairing gesture with his hand. '' Ach! my God ! 
what is it?'* . . . 

He was evidently so cut up, that one could not help 
oflfering suggestions. 

*' Moat, perhaps," said Bolkhof. 

'' No ; simply rampart. As soon as we reached it, 
if you will believe me, there was a fire poured in upon 
us — it was hell.'* ... 

At the crisis, some one behind the wigwam inquired 
for me. It was Maksimof. As there still remained 
thirteen of the intrenchments to be taken in the same 
monotonous detail, I was glad to have an excuse to go 
to my division. Trosenko went with me. 

'' It's all a pack of lies," he said to me when we 
had gone a few steps from the wigwam. " He wasn't 
at the intrenchments at all ; " and Trosenko laughed 
so good-naturedly, that I could not help joining him. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 97 



XIII. 

It was already dark night, and the camp was lighted 
only by the flickering bonfires, when I rejoined my 
soldiers, after giving my orders. A great smouldering 
log was lying on the coals. Around it were sitting only 
three of the men, — Antonof , who had set his kettle 
on the fire to boil his rydbko^ or hard-tack and tallow ; 
Zhddnof , thoughtfully poking the ashes with a stick ; 
and Chikin, with his pipe, which was forever in his 
mouth. The rest had already turned in, some under 
gun carriages, others in the hay, some around the 
fires. By the faint light of the coals I recognized the 
backs, the legs, and the heads of those whom I knew. 
Among the latter was the recruit, who, curling up close 
to the fire, was already fast asleep. Antonof made 
room for me. . I sat down by him, and began to smoke 
a cigarette. The odor of the mist and of the smoke 
from the wet branches spreading through the air made 
one's eyes smart, and the same penetrating drizzle fell 
from the gloomy sky. 

Behind us could be heard regular snoring, the 
crackling of wood in the fire, muflled conversation, and 
occasionally the clank of muskets among the infantry. 
Everywhere about us the watch-fires were glowing, 
throwing their red reflections within narrow circles on 
the dark forms of the soldiers. Around the nearer 
fires I distinguished, in places where it was light, the 
figures of naked soldiers waving their shirts in the very 



98 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

flames. Many of the men had not yet gone to bed, 
but were wandering round, and talking over a space of 
fifteen square sazhens ; but the thick, gloomy night 
imparted a peculiarly mysterious tone to all this move- 
ment, as though each felt this gloomy silence, and 
feared to disturb its peaceful harmony. When 1 
spoke, it seemed to me that my voice sounded strange. 
On the faces of all the soldiers sitting by the fire I 
read the same mood. I thought, that, when I joined 
them, they were talking about their wounded comrade ; 
but it was nothing of the sort. Chikin was telling 
about the condition of things at Tiflis, and about 
school-children there. 

Always and everywhere, especially in the Caucasus, 
I have remarked in our soldiery at the time of danger 
peculiar tact in ignoring or avoiding those things that 
might have a depressing effect upon their comrades' 
spirits. The spirit of the Russian soldier is not con- 
stituted, like the courage of the Southern nations, for 
quickly kindled and quickly cooling enthusiasm ; it is 
as hard to set him on fire as it is to cause him to lose 
courage. For him it is not necessary to have acces- 
sories, speeches, martial shouts, songs, and drums ; 
on the contrary, he wants calmness, order, and avoid- 
ance of every thing unnatural. In the Russian, the 
genuine Russian soldier, you never find braggadocio, 
bravado, or the tendency to get demoralized or excited 
in time of danger; on the contrary, discretion, sim- 
plicity, and the faculty of seeing in peril something 
quite distinct from the peril, constitute the chief traits 
of his character. 1 have seen a soldier wounded in the 
leg, at the first moment mourning onl}' over the hole in 
his new jacket ; a messenger thrown from his horse, 
which was killed under him, unbuckling the girth so 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 99 

as to save the saddle. Who does not recollect the 
incident at the siege of Hergebel when the fuse of a 
loaded bomb was on fire in the powder-room, and the 
artillerist ordered two soldiers to take the bomb and 
fling it over the wall, and how the soldiers did not take 
it to the most convenient place, which was near the 
colonel's tent on the rampart, but carried it farther, 
lest it should wake the gentlemen who were asleep in 
the tent, and both of them were blown to pieces ? 

I remember, that, during this same expedition of 
1852, one of the young soldiers, during action, said to 
some one that it was not proper for the division to go 
into danger, and how the whole division in scorn went 
for him for saying such shameful words that they 
would not even repeat them. And here now the 
thought of Velenchuk must have been in the mind of 
each ; and when any second might bring upon us the 
broadside of the stealthy Tatars, all were listening to 
Chikin's lively story, and no one mentioned the events 
of the day, nor the present danger, nor their wounded 
friend, as though it had happened God knows how long 
ago, or had never been at all. But still, it seemed to 
me that their faces were more serious than usual ; they 
listened with too little attention to Chikin's tale, and 
even Chikin himself felt that they were not listening to 
him, but let him talk to himself. 

Maksimof came to the bonfire, and sat down by me. 
Chikin made room for him, stopped talking, and again 
began to suck at his pipe. 

'' The infantry have sent to camp for some vodka," 
said Maksimof after a considerably long silence. 
*•• They'll be back with it very soon." He spat into 
the fire. ''A subaltern was saying that he had seen 
our comrade." 



100 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

"Was he still alive?" asked Antonof, turning his 
kettle round. 

*'No, he is dead." 

The recruit suddenly raised above the fire his grace- 
ful head within his red cap, for an instant gazed in- 
tently at Makslmof and me, then quickly dropped it, 
and rolled himself up in his cloak. 

'' You see, it was death that was coming upon him 
this morning when I woke him in the gun-park," said 
Antonof. 

" Nonsense ! " said Zhd^nof, turning over the smoul- 
dering log ; and all were silent. 

Amid the general silence a shot was heard behind us 
in the camp. Our drummers took it up immediately, 
and beat the tattoo. When the last roll had ceased, 
Zhdanof was already up, and the first to take off his 
cap. The rest of us followed his example. 

Amid the deep silence of the night a choir of har- 
monious male yoices resounded : — 

" Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy 
name. Thy kingdom come ; thy will be done, as on 
earth, so in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, 
and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. 
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from 
the evil one." 

" It was just so with us in '45 : one man was con- 
tused in this place," said Antonof when we had put 
on our hats and were sitting around the fire, " and 
so we carried him two days on the gun. Do you 
remember Shevchenko, Zhdanof? . . . We left him 
there under a tree." 

At this time a foot-soldier with tremendous whiskers 
and mustaches, carrying a gun and a knapsack, came 
to our fire. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 101 

'* Please give a fellow-countryman a coal for his 
pipe," said he. 

" Of course,^ smoke away ; there is plenty of fire," 
remarked Chikin. 

'' Yon were talking about Dargi, weren't you, 
friend?" asked the soldier, addressing Antonof. 

The soldier shook his head, frowned, and squatted 
down near us on his heels. 

*' There were all sorts of things there," he re- 
marked. 

'* Why did you leave him? " I asked of Antonof. 

" He had awful cramps in his belly. When we 
stood still, he did not feel it ; but when we moved, he 
screeched and screeched. He besought us by all that 
was holy to leave him : it was pitiful. Well, and 
when he began to vex us solely, and had killed three 
of our men at the guns and one officer, then our bat- 
teries opened on him, and did some execution too. 
We weren't able to drag out the guns, there was such 
mud." 

*'It was muddier under the Indian mountains than 
anywhere else," remarked the strange soldier. 

'' Well, but indeed it kept growing worse and worse 
for him ; and we decided, Anoshenka — he was an old 
artillerist — and the rest of us, that indeed there was 
no chance for him but to say a prayer, and so we left 
him there. And so we decidecl. A tree grew there, 
welcome enough. We left some hard-tack for him, — 
Zhddnof had some, — we put him against the tree, put 
a clean shirt on him, said good-by to him, and so we 
left him." 

" Was he a man of importance? " 

*' Not at all : he was a soldier," remarked Zhddnof. 

1 cMo-eh. 



102 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

"And what became of him, God knows," added 
Antonof. " Many of our brothers were left there." 

"At Dargi? " asked the infantry man, standing up 
and picking up his pipe, and again frowning and shak- 
ing his head. . . . "There were all sorts of things 
there." 

And he left us. 

" Say, are there many of the soldiers in our battery 
who were at Dargi? " I asked. 

" Let us see ; ^ here is Zhdanof , myself, Patsan, — 
who is now on furlough, — and some six men more. 
There wouldn't be any others." 

"Why has our Patsan gone off on leave of ab- 
sence?" asked Chikin, shaking out his legs, and lay- 
ing his head on a log. " It's almost a year since he 
went." 

"Well, are you going to take your furlough?" I 
asked of Zhdanof. 

" No, I'm not," he replied reluctantly. 

" I tell you it's a good thing to go," said Antonof, 
"when you come from a rich home, or when you are 
able to work ; and it's rather flattering to go and have 
the folks glad to see you." 

" But how about going when you have a brother,", 
asked Zhdanof, "and would have to be supported by 
him? They have enough for themselves, but there's 
nothing for a brother .who's a soldier. Poor kind of 
help after serving twenty-five years. Besides, whether 
they are alive or no, who knows? " 

" But why haven't you written?" I asked. 

"Written? I did send two letters, but they don't 
reply. Either they are dead, or they don't reply be- 
cause, of course, they are poor. It's so everywhere." 

1 da chto. 



THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 103 

*' Have yon written latelj? " 

" When we left Dargi I wrote my last letter." 

'' You had better sing that song about the birch," 
said Zhddnof to Antonof, who at this moment was on 
his knees, and was purring some song. 

Antonof sang his '^ Song of the White Birch." 

" That's Uncle Zhddnof's very most favorite song," 
said Chikin to me in a whisper, as he helped me on 
with my cloak. " The other day, as Filipp Antonuitch 
was singing it, he actuall}' cried." 

Zhddnof at first sat absolutely motionless, with his 
eyes fastened on the smouldering embers, and his face, 
shining in the ruddy glow, seemed extraordinarily 
gloomy ; then his cheek under his mustaches began to 
move quicker and quicker ; and at last he got up, and, 
spreading out his cloak, he lay down in the shadow 
behind the fire. Either he tossed about and groaned 
as he got ready for bed, or the death of V^elenchuk 
and this wretched weather had completely upset me ; 
but it certainly seemed to me that he was weeping. 

The bottom of the log which had been rolled on the 
fire, occasionally blazing up, threw its light on An- 
tonof's form, with his gray mustache, his red face, and 
the ribbons on the cloak flung over his shoulders, 
and brought into relief the boots, heads, or backs of 
other sleeping soldiers. 

From above the same wretched drizzle was falling ; 
in the atmosphere was the same odor of dampness and 
smoke ; around us could be seen the same bright dots 
of the dying fires, and amid the general silence the 
melancholy notes of Antonof 's song rang out. And 
when this ceased for a moment, the faint nocturnal 
sounds of the camp, the snoring, the clank of a senti- 
nel's musket, and quiet conversation, chimed in with it. 



104 THE WOOD-CUTTING EXPEDITION. 

''Second watch! Makatiuk and Zlidanof,'' shouted 
Maksimof. 

Autonof ceased to sing ; Zhddnof arose, drew a deep 
sigh, stepped across the log, and went off quietly to 
the guns. 

July 27, 1855. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 



PRINCE NEKIIILUDOF RELATES HOW, DURING AN EXPEDITION IN 
TUE CAUCASUS, HE MET AN ACQUAINTANCE FROM MOSCOW. 



Our division had been out in the field. 

The work in hand was accomplished : we had cnt a 
way through the forest, and each day we were expect- 
ing from headquarters orders for our return to the fort. 
Our division of field-pieces was stationed at the top 
of a steep mountain-crest which was terminated by the 
swift mountain river Meehik, and had to command 
the plain that stretched before us. Here and there 
on this picturesque plain, out of the reach of gun- 
shot, now and then, especially at evening, groups of 
mounted mountaineers showed themselves, attracted 
by curiosity to ride up and view the Russian camp. 

The evening was clear, mild, and fresh, as it is apt to 
be in December in the Caucasus ; the sun was setting 
behind the steep chain of the mountains at the left, 
and threw rosy rays upon the tents scattered over the 
slope, upon the soldiers moving about, and upon our 
two guns, which seemed to crane their necks as they 
rested motionless on the earthwork two paces from us. 
The infantry picket, stationed on the knoll at the left, 
stood in perfect silhouette against the light of the sun- 
set; no less distinct were the stacks of muskets, the 



106 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

form of the sentry, the groups of soldiers, and the 
smoke of the smouldering camp-fire. 

At the right and left of the slope, on the black, 
sodden earth, the tents gleamed white ; and behind 
the tents, black stood the bare trunks of the platane 
forest, which rang with the incessant sound of axes, 
the crackling of the bonfires, and the crashing of the 
trees as they fell under the axes. . The bluish smoke 
arose from tobacco-pipes on all sides, and vanished in 
the transparent blue of the frosty sky. By the tents 
and on the lower ground around the arms rushed the 
Cossacks, dragoons, and artillerists, with great gallop- 
ing and snorting of horses as they returned from 
getting water. It began to freeze ; all sounds were 
heard with extraordinary distinctness, and one could 
see an immense distance across the plain through the 
clear, rare atmosphere. The groups of the enemy, 
their curiosity at seeing the soldiers satisfied, quietly 
galloped off across the fields, still yellow with the 
golden corn-stubble, toward their auls or villages, 
which were visible, beyond the forest, with the tall 
posts of the cemeteries and the smoke rising in the 
air. 

Our tent was pitched not far from the guns on a 
place high and dry, from which we had a remarkably 
extended view. Near the tent, on a cleared space, 
around the battery itself, we had our games of skittles, 
or chushki. The obliging soldiers had made for us 
rustic benches and tables. On account of all these 
amusements, the artillery officers, our comrades, and a 
few infantry men. liked to gather of an evening around 
our battery, and the place came to be called the 
club. 

As the evening was fine, the best playei*s had come, 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 107 

and we were amusing ourselves with skittles.^ Ensign 
D., Lieutenant O., and myself had played two games 
in succession ; and to the common satisfaction and 
amusement of all the spectators, officers, soldiers, 
and servants ^ who were watching us from their tents, 
we had twice carried the winning party on our backs 
from one end of the ground to the other. Especially 
droll was the situation of the huge fat Captain 8., 
who, puffing and smiling good-naturedly, with legs 
dragging on the ground, rode pickapack on the feeble 
little Lieutenant O. 

When it grew somewhat later, the servants brought 
three glasses of tea for the six men of us, and not a 
spoon ; and we who had finished our game came to the 
plaited settees. 

There was standing near them a small bow-legged 
man, a stranger to us, in a sheepskin jacket, and a 
papdkha^'^OY Circassian cap, with long overhanging 
white crown. As soon as we came near where he 
stood, he took a few irresolute steps, and put on his 
cap; and several times he seemed to make up his mind 
to come to meet us, and then stopped a<j^nin. But 
after deciding, probably, that it was impossible to re- 
main irresolute, the stranger took off his cap, and, 
going in a circuit around us, approached Captain S. 

"Ah, Guskantini, how is it, old man?"^ said S., 
still smiling good-naturedly, under the influence of his 
ride. 

Guskantini, as S. called him, instantly replaced his 
cap, and made a motion as though to thrust his hands 
into the pockets of his jacket ; '' but on the side toward 
me there was no pocket in the jacket, and his small 

1 gorodki. ^ denshcMki. ^ nu chto, bdtenka. 

* polushuOok, liltlc half dhuOu, or fur cloak. 



108 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

red hand fell into an awkward position. I felt a 
strong desire to make out who this man was (was he 
a yunker, or a degraded officer?) and, not realizing that 
my gaze (that is, the gaze of a strange officer) discon- 
certed him, I continued to stare at his dress and ap- 
pearance. 

I judged that he was about thirty. His small, 
round, gray eyes had a sleepy expression, and at 
the same time gazed calmly out from under the dirty 
white lambskin of his cap, which hung down over his 
face. His thick, irregular nose, standing out between 
his sunken cheeks, gave evidence of emaciation that 
was the result of illness, and not natural. Plis restless 
lips, barely covered by a sparse, soft, whitish mustache, 
were constantly changing their shape, as though they 
were trying to assume now one expression, now an- 
other. But all these expressions seemed to be endless, 
and his face retained one predominating expression of 
timidity and fright. Around his thin neck, where: the 
veins stood out, was tied a green woollen scarf tucked 
into his jacket. His fur jacket, or polusliuhok., was 
worn bare, short, and had dog-fur sewed on the collar 
and on the false pockets. The trousers were check- 
ered, of ash-gray color, and his sapogi had short, un- 
blacked military bootlegs. 

" I beg of you, do not disturb yourself," said I 
when he for the second time, timidly glancing at me, 
had taken off his cap. 

He bowed to me with an expression of gratitude, 
replaced his hat, and, drawing from his pocket a dirty 
chintz tobacco-pouch with lacings, began to roll a 
cigarette. 

I myself had not been long a yunker, an elderly 
yunker ; and as I was incapable, as yet, of being good- 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 109 

naturedly serviceable to my younger comiacles, and 
without means, I well knew all the moral difficulties 
of this situation for a proud man no longer young, and 
I sympathized with all men who found themselves in 
such a situation, and I endeavored to make clear to 
myself their character and rank, and the tendencies 
of their intellectual peculiarities, in order to judge of 
ike degree of their moral sufferings. This yunker or 
degraded officer, judging by his restless eyes and that 
intentionally constant variation of expression which I 
noticed in him, was a man very far from stupid, and 
extremely egotistical, and therefore much to be pitied. 

Captain S. invited us to play another game of skit- 
tles, with the stakes to consist, not only of the usual 
pickapack ride of the winning party, but also of a few 
bottles of red wine, rum, sugar, cinnamon, and cloves 
for the mulled wine which that winter, on account of 
the cold, was greatly popular in our division. 

Guskantini, as S. again called him, was also invited to 
take part ; but before the game began, the man, strug- 
gling between gratification because he had been invited 
and a certain timidity, drew Captain S. aside, and began 
to say something in a whisper. The good-natured 
captain punched him in the ribs with his big, fat hand, 
and replied, loud enough to be heard, — 

'' Not at all, old fellow,^ I assure you.'* 

When the game was over, and that side in which the 
stranger whose rank was so low had taken part, had 
come out winners, and it fell to his lot to ride on 
one of our officers, Ensign D., the ensign grew red in 
the face : he went to the little divan and offered the 
stranger a cigarette by way of a compromise. 

While they were ordering the mulled wine, and in the 

' bdtenka. Malo-Rut»«iau diniiuulive, little father. 



110 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

steward's tent were heard assiduous preparations on the 
part of Nikita, who had sent an orderly for cinnamon 
and cloves, and the shadow of his back was alternately 
Iwngthening and shortening on the ding}- sides of the 
tent, we men, seven in all, sat around on the benches ; 
and while we took turns in drinking tea from the three 
gUisses, and gazed out over the plain, which was now 
beginning to glow in the twilight, we talked and 
laughed over the various incidents of the game. 

The stranger in the fur jacket took no share in the 
conversation, obstinately refused to drink the tea which 
I several times offered him, and as he sat there on the 
ground in Tatar fashion, occupied himself in making 
cigarettes of fine-cut tobacco, and smoking them one 
after another, evidently not so much for his own satis- 
faction as to give himself the appearance of a man 
with something to do. When it was remarked that the 
summons to return was expected on the morrow, and 
that there might be an engagement, he lifted himself 
on his knees, and, addressing Captain B. only, said 
that he had been at the adjutant's, and had himself 
written the order for the return on the next day. We 
all said nothing while he was speaking ; and notwith- 
standing the fact that he wfes so bashful, we begged 
him to repeat this most interesting piece of news. He 
repeated what he had said, adding only that he had 
been staying at the adjutant's (since he made it his 
home there) when the order came. 

'' Look here, old fellow, if you are not telling us 
false, I shall have to go to my company and give some 
orders for to-morrow,'* said Captain S. 

" No . . . why ... it may be, I am sure'* . . . 
stammered the stranger, but suddenly stopped, and, 
appaiently feeling himself affronted, contracted his 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. Ill 

brows, and, muttering something between his teeth, 
iioaiu bei^iiu to joU a ci«jarette. But the fine-cut tobacco 
in his chintz pouch began to sliow signs of giving out, 
and he asked 8. to lend him a little cigarette.^ 

We kept on for a considerable time with that monoto- 
nous military chatter which every one who has ever 
been on an expedition will appreciate ; all of us, with 
one and the same expression, complaining of the dul- 
ness and length of the expedition, in one and the same 
fashion sitting in judgment on our superiors, /ind all of 
us likewise, as we had done many times before, praising 
one comrade, pitying another, wondering how much 
this one had gained, how much that one had lost, and 
so on, and so on. 

*'Here, fellows, this adjutant of ours is completely 
broken up," said Captain S. "At headquarters he was 
everlastingly on the winning side ; no matter whom he 
sat down with, he'd rake ni every thing: but now for 
two months past he has been losing all the time. The 
present expedition hasn't been lucky for him. I think 
he has got away with two thousand silver rubles and 
five hundred rubles' worth of articles, — the carpet 
that be won at Mukhin's, Nikitin's pistols, Sada's gold 
watch which Vorontsof gave him. He has lost it all." 

''The truth of the matter in his case," said Lieu- 
tenant O., ''was that he used to cheat ever^^body ; it 
was impossible to play with him." 

"He cheated everyone, but now it's all gone up 
in his pipe;" and here Captain S. laughed good- 
naturedly. "Our friend Guskof here lives with him. 
He hasn't quite lost him yet : that's so, isn't it, old 
fellow? "^ he asked, addressing Guskof. 

» papirdsotchka, diminiahed diminuUveof papiroska, from papiroa. 
* bdtenka. 



112 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

Guskof tried to laugh. It was a melancholy, sickly 
laugh, which completelj' changed the expression of his 
countenance. Till tliis moment it had seemed to me 
that I had seen and known this man before ; and, be- 
sides, the name Guskof, bj^ which Captain S. called 
him, was familiar to me ; but how and when I had seen 
and known him, I actually could not remember. 

"Yes," said Guskof, incessantly putting his hand 
to his mustaches, but instantly dropping it again with- 
out touching them. '' Pavel Dmitrievitch's luck has 
been against him in this expedition, such a veine de 
malheur," he added in a careful but pure French 
pronunciation, again giving me to think that I had 
seen him, and seen him often, somewhere. "I k,now 
Pavel Dmitrievitch very well. He has great confi- 
dence in me," he proceeded to say; ''he and I are 
old friends ; that is, he is fond of me," he explained, 
evidently fearing that it might be taken as presump- 
tion for him to claim old friendship with the adjutant. 
'' Pavel Dmitrievitch plays admirably ; but now, strange 
as it may seem, it's all up with him, he is just about 
perfectly ruined; la chance a tourne.," he added, ad- 
dressing himself particularly to me. 

At first we had listened to Guskof with condescend- 
mg attention ; but as soon as he made use of that sec- 
ond French phrase, we all involuntarily turned from 
him. 

" 1 have played with him a thousand times, and we 
agreed then that it was strange," said Lieutenant O., 
with peculiar emphasis on the word strange.^ " I 
never once won a ruble from him. Why was it, when 
I used to win of others? " 

" Pavel Dimitrievitch plays admirably : I have known 

» strdnno. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 113 

him for a long time," said I. In fact, I had known the 
adjutant for several years ; more than once I had seen 
him in the full swing of a game, surrounded by offi- 
cers, and I had remarked his handsome, rather gloomy 
and always passionless calm face, his deliberate Malo- 
Russian pronunciation, his handsome belongings and 
horses, his bold, manly figure, and above all his skill 
aucr self-restraint in carrying on the game accurately 
and agreeably. More than once, I am sorry to say, as 
I looked at his plump white hands with a diamond ring 
on the index-finger, passing out one card after another, 
I grew angry with that ring, with his white hands, with 
the whole of the adjutant's person, and evil thoughts 
on his account arose in my mind. But as I afterwards 
reconsidered the matter coolly, I persuaded myself that 
he played more skilfully than all with whom he hap- 
pened to plaj^ : the more so, because as I heard his 
general observations concerning the game, — how one 
ought not to back out when one had laid the smallest 
stake, how one ought not to leave off in certain cases as 
the first rule for honest men, and so forth, and so forth, 
— it was evident that he was always on the winning 
side merely from the fact that he played more saga- 
ciously and coolly than the rest of us. And now it 
seemed that this self-reliant, careful player had been 
stripped not only of his money but of his effects, which 
marks the lowest depths of loss for an officer. 

"He always had devilish good luck with me,'* said 
Lieutenant 0. "I made a vow never to play with him 
again." 

" What a marvel you are, old fellow ! " said S., nod- 
ding at me, and addressing O. " You lost three hun- 
dred silver rubles, that's what you lost to him." 

" More than that," said the lieutenant savagely. 



114 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

" And now you have come to your senses ; it is 
rather kite in the day, old man, for the rest of us have 
known for a long time that he was the cheat of the 
regiment," said S., with difficulty restraining his laugh- 
ter, and feeling very well satisfied with his fabrication. 
" Here is Guskof right here, — he fixes his cards for 
him. That's the reason of the friendship between 
them, old man " ^ . . . and Captain S., shaking all 
over, burst out into such a hearty " ha, ha, ha ! " that 
he spilt the glass of mulled wine which he was holding 
in his hand. On Guskof's pale emaciated face there 
showed something like a color ; he opened his mouth 
several times, raised his hands to his mustaches and 
once more dropi^ed them to his side where the pockets 
should have been, stood up, and then sat down again, 
and finally in an unnatural voice said to S., — 

'^ It's no joke, Nikolai Ivdnovitch, for you to say 
such things before people who don't know me and who 
see me in this unlined jacket . . . because" — His 
voice failed "him, and again his small red hands with 
their dirty nails went from his jacket to his face, 
touching his mustache, his hair, his nose, rubbing his 
eyes, or needlessly scratching his cheek. 

"As to saying that, everybody knows it, old feb 
low," continued S., thoroughly satisfied with his jest, 
and not heeding Guskof's complaint. Guskof was 
still trying to say something ; and placing the palm 
of his right hand on his left knee in a most unnatural 
position, and gazing at S., he had an appearance of 
smiling contemptuously. 

" No," said I to myself, as I noticed that smile of 
his, '' I have not only seen him, but have spoken with 
him somewhere." 

» bdtenka mdi. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 115 

'" You and I have met somewhere," said I to him 
when, under the influence of the common silence, S.'s 
laughter began to calm down. Guskof s mobile face 
suddenly lighted up, and his e3^es, for the first time 
with a truly joyous expr^sion, rested upon me. 

''Why, I recognized you immediately," he replied 
in French. "In '48 I had the pleasure of meeting 
you quite frequently in Moscow at my sister's." 

1 had to apologize for not recognizing him at first in 
that costume and in that new garb. He arose, came 
to me, and with his moist hand irresolutely and weakly 
seized ray hand, and sat down by me. Instead of 
looking at me, though he apparently seemed so glad 
to see me, he gazed with an expression of unfriendly 
bravado at the officers. 

Either because I recognized in him a man whom I 
had met a few years before in a dress-coat in a parlor, 
or because he was suddenly raised in his own opinion 
by the fact of being recognized, — at all events it 
seemed to me that his face and even his motions com- 
pletely changed : they now expressed lively intelligence, 
a childish self-satisfaction in the consciousness of such 
intelligence, and a certain contemptuous indifference ; 
so that I confess, notwithstanding the pitiable position 
in which he found himself, my old acquaintance did 
not so much excite sympathy in me as it did a sort of 
unfavorable sentiment. 

I now vividly remembered our first meeting. In 
1848, while I was staying at Moscow, I frequently 
went to the house of Ivashin, who from childhood had 
been an old friend of mine. His wife was an agree- 
able hostess, a charming woman, as everybody said ; 
but she never pleased me. . . . The winter that I 
knew her, she often spoke with hardly concealed pride 



110 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

of her brother, who had shortly before completed his 
course, and promised to be one of the most fashionable 
and popular young men in the best society of Peters- 
burg. As I knew by reputation the father of the 
Guskofs, who was very rich and had a distinguished 
position, and as I knew also the sister's ways, I felt 
some prejudice against meeting the young man. One 
evening when I was at Ivashin's, I saw a short, thor- 
oughly pleasant-looking young man, in a black coat, 
white vest and necktie. My host hastened to make 
me acquainted with him. The young man, evidently 
dressed for a ball, with his cap in his hand, was 
standing before Ivdshin, and was eagerly but politely 
arguing with him about a common friend of ours, who 
had distinguished himself at the time of the Hungarian 
campaign. He said that this acquaintance was not at 
all a hero or a man born for war, as was said of him, 
but was simply a clever and cultivated man. 1 recol- 
lect, I took part in the argument against Guskof, and 
went to the extreme of declaring also that intellect 
and cultivation always bore an inverse relation to 
bravery ; and I recollect how Guskof pleasantly and 
cleverly pointed out to me that bravery was necessarily 
the result of intellect dTud a decided degree of develo[> 
ment, — a statement which I, who considered myself an 
intellectual and cultivated man, could not in my heart 
of hearts agree with. 

I recollect that towards the close of our conversa- 
tion Madame Ivdshina introduced me to her brother ; 
and he, with a condescending smile, offered me his 
little hand on which he had not yet had time to draw 
his kid gloves, and weakly and irresolutely pressed my 
hand as he did now. Though I had been prejudiced 
against Guskof, I could not help granting that he was 




AN OLD ACQUAINT A 

ill the right, and agreeing with his sister that he was 
really a clever and agreeable young man, who ought to 
have great success in society. He was extraordinarily 
neat, beautifully dressed, and fresh, and had affectedlj- 
modest manners, and a thoroughly youthful, almost 
childish appearance, on account of which, 3'ou could 
not help excusing his expression of self-sufficiency, 
though it modified the impression of his high-mighti- 
ness caused by his intellectual face and especially his 
smile. It was said that he had great success that 
winter with the high-born ladies of Moscow. As I 
saw him at his sister's I could only infer how far this 
was true by the feeling of pleasure and contentment 
constantly excited in me by his youthful appearance 
and by his sometimes indiscreet anecdotes. He and 
I met half a dozen times, and talked a good deal ; 
or, rather, he talked a good deal, and I listened. He 
spoke for the most part in French, always with a 
good accent, very fluently and ornately ; and he had 
the skill of drawing others gently and politely into 
the conversation. As a general thing, he behaved 
toward all, and toward me, in a somewhat supercilious 
manner, and I felt that he was perfectly right in this 
way of treating people. I always feel that way in 
regard to men who are firmly convinced that they 
ought to treat me superciliously, and who are com- 
parative strangers to me. 

Now, as he sat with me, and gave me his hand, I 
keenly recalled in him that same old haughtiness of 
expression ; and it seemed to me that he did not prop- 
erly appreciate his position of official inferiority, as, in 
the presence of the officers, he asked me what I had 
been doing in all that time, and how I happened to be 
there. In spite of the fact that I invariably made my 



118 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

replies in Russian, he kept putting his questions in 
French, expressing himself as before in remarkably 
correct language. About himself he said fluently that 
after his unhapp}^ wretched story (what the story was, 
I did not know, and he had not yet told me), he had 
been three months under arrest, and then had been 
sent to the Caucasus to the N. regiment, and now had 
been serving three years as a soldier in that regiment. 

" You would not believe," said he to me in French, 
"how much I have to suffer in these regiments from 
the society of the officers. Still it is a pleasure to me, 
that I used to know the adjutant of whom we were 
just speaking: he is a good man — it's a fact," he 
remarked condescendingly. "I live with him, and 
that's something of a relief for me. Yes, my dear, the 
days fly by, but they aren't all alike," he added ; and 
suddenly hesitated, reddened, and stood up, as he 
caught sight of the adjutant himself coming toward 
us. 

" It is such a pleasure to meet such a man as you," 
said Guskof to me in a whisper as he turned from me. 
" I should like very, very much, to have a long talk 
with you." 

I said that I should be very happy to talk with him,  
but in reality I confess that Guskof excited in me a 
sort of dull pity that was not akin to sympathy. 

I had a presentiment that I should feel a constraint 
in a private conversation with him ; but still I was anx- 
ious to learn from him several things, and, above all, 
why it was, when his father had been so rich, that he 
was in poverty, as was evident by his dress and 
appearance. 

1 Oui, mon cher, lea joura ae auivent, mais ne ae reaaemblent paa: in 
French in the original. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 119 

The adjutant greeted us all, including Guskof, and 
sat down by me in the seat which the cashiered officer 
had just vacated. Pavel Dmitrievitch, who had always 
been calm and leisurely, a genuine gambler, and a 
man of means, was now very different from what he 
had been in the flowery days of his success ; he seemed 
to be in haste to go somewhere, kept constantly glan- 
cing at everybody, and it was not five minutes before 
he proposed to Lieutenant O., who had sworn off from 
playing, to set up a small faro-bank. Lieutenant O. 
refused, under the pretext of having to attend to his 
duties, but in reality because, as he knew that the 
adjutant had few possessions and little money left, he 
did not feel himself justified in risking his three hun- 
dred rubles against a hundred or even less which the 
adjutant might stake. 

^' Well, Pavel Dmitrievitch," said the lieutenant, 
anxious to avoid a repetition of the invitation, "is it 
true, what they tell us, that we return to-morrow? '* 

''I don't know," replied the adjutant. "Orders 
came, to be in readiness ; but if it's true, then you'd 
better play a game. 1 would wager my Kabarda 
cloak." 

" No, to-day already "... 

" It's a gray one, never been worn ; but if you 
prefer, play for money. How is that? " 

"Yes, but ... I should be willing — praj' don't 
think that" . . . said Lieutenant O., answering the 
implied suspicion; "but as there may be a raid or 
some movement, I must go to bed early." 

The adjutant stood up, and, thrusting his hands into 
his pockets, started to go across the grounds. His 
face assumed its ordinary expression of coldness and 
pride, which I admired in him. 



120 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

" Won't yon have a glass of mulled wine? " I asked 
him. 

'*That might be acceptable," and he came back to 
me ; but Guskof politely took the glass from me, and 
handed it to the adjutant, striving at the same time 
not to look at him. But as he did not notice the tent- 
rope, he stumbled over it, and fell on his hand, drop- 
ping the glass. 

"What a bungler!" exclaimed the adjutant, still 
holding out his hand for the glass. Everybody burst 
out laughing, not excepting Guskof, who was rubbing 
his hand on his sore knee, which he had somehow 
struck as he fell. '' That's the way the bear waited 
on the hermit," continued the adjutant. " It's the wky 
he waits on me every day. He has pulled up all the 
tent-pins; he's always tripping up." 

Guskof, not hearing him, apologized to us, and 
glanced toward me with a smile of almost noticeable 
melanchol}' as though saving that I alone could under- 
stand him. He was pitiable to see ; but the adjutant, 
his protector, seemed, on that verj' account, to be 
severe on his messmate, and did not trj^ to put him at 
his ease. 

"Well, you're a graceful lad! Where did you 
think you were going? " 

"Well, who can help tripping over these pins, Pavel 
Dmitrievitch ? " said Guskof. "You tripped over 
them yourself the other day." 

" I, old man,^ — I am not of the rank and file, and 
such gracefulness is not expected of me." 

" He can be lazy," said Captain S., keeping the ball 
rolling, " but low-rank men have to make their legs 

fly." 

1 bdtimhka. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 121 

. ** Ill-timed jest," said Guskof almost in a whisper, 
and casting down his eyes. The adjutant was evi- 
dently vexed with his messmate ; he listened with in- 
quisitive attention to every word that he said. 

'' He'll have to be sent out into ambuscade again," 
said he, addressing S., and pointing to the cashiered 
officer. 

" Well, there'll be some more tears," said S., laugh- 
ing. Guskof no longer looked at me, but acted as 
though he were going to take some tobacco from his 
pouch, though there had been none there for some 
time. 

*' Get ready for the ambuscade, old man," said S., 
addressing him with shouts of laughter. '* To-day the 
scouts have brought the news, there'll be an attack on 
the camp to-night, so it's necessary to designate the 
trusty lads." Guskof 's face showed a fleeting smile 
as though he were preparing to make some reply, but 
several times he cast a supplicating look at S. 

" Well, you know I have been, and I'm ready to go 
again if I am sent," he said hastily. 
'' ''Then you'll be sent." 

" Well, I'll go. Isn't that all right? '* 

'> Yes, as at Arguna, you deserted the ambuscade 
and threw away your gun," said the adjutant; and 
turning from him he began to tell us the orders for the 
next day. 

As a matter of fact, we expected from tlie enemy a 
Cannonade of the camp that night, and the next day 
some sort of diversion. While we were still chatting 
about various subjects of general interest, the adjutant, 
as though from a sudden and unexpected impulse, 
proposed to Lieutenant O. to have a little game. The 
lieutenant most unexj^ectedly consented ; and, together 



122 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

with S. and the ensign, they went off to the adjutant's 
tent, where there was a folding green table with cards 
on it. The captain, the commander of our division, 
went to our tent to sleep ; the other gentlemen also 
separated, and Guskof and I were left alone. I was 
not mistaken, it was really very uncomfortable for me 
to have a Ute-cl-tete with him ; I arose involuntarily, 
and began to promenade up and down on the battery. 
Guskof walked in silence by my side, hastily and 
awkwardly wheeling around so as not to delay or 
incommode me. 

" I do not anno}' 3"0u? " he asked in a soft, mourn- 
ful voice. So far as I could see his face in the dim 
light, it seemed to me deeply thoughtful and melan- 
choly. 

*' Not at all," I replied ; but as he did not immedi- 
ately begin to speak, and as I did not know what to 
say to him, we walked m silence a considerably long 
time. 

The twilight had now absolutely changed into dark 
night ; over the black profile of the mountains gleamed 
the bright evenmg heat-lightning ; over our heads in 
the light-blue frosty sky twinkled the little stars ; on all 
sides gleamed the ruddy flames of the smoking watdi- 
fires ; near us, the white tents stood out in contrast 
to the frowning blackness of our earth-works. The 
light from the nearest watch-fire, around which our 
servants, engaged in quiet conversation, were warming 
themselves, occasionally flashed on the brass of our 
heavy guns, and fell on the form of the sentry, who, 
wrapped in his cloak, paced with measured tread along 
the battery. 

*' You cannot imagine what a delight it is for me 
to talk with such a man as you are," said Guskof, 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 123 

although as yet he had not spoken a word to me. 
" Only one who had been in my position could appre- 
ciate it." 

I did not know how to reply to him, and we again 
relapsed into silence, although it was evident that he 
was anxious to talk, and have me listen to him. 

"Why were you . . . why did you suffer this?'* 
I inquired at last, not being able to invent any better 
way of breaking the ice. 

" Why, didn't you hear about this wretched business 
from Metenin ? ' ' 

'' Yes, a duel, I believe ; I did not hear much about 
it," I replied. "You see, I have been for some time 
in the Caucasus." 

" No, it wasn't a duel, but it was a stupid and horrid 
story. I will tell you all about it, if you don't know. 
It happened, that the same year that I met you at my 
sister's, I was living at Petersburg. I must tell you I 
had then what they call une position dans le monde, — 
a position good enough if it was not brilliant. Mon 
p^re me donnait ten thousand par an. In '49 I was 
promised a place in the embassy at Turin ; my uncle on 
my mother's side had mfluence, and was always ready 
to do a great deal for me. That sort of thing is all past 
now. J'kais re^u dans la meilleure societe de Peters- 
hourg ; I might have aspired to any girl in the city. 
I was well educated, as we all are who come from the 
school, but was not especially cultivated ; to be sure, I 
read a good deal afterwards, mats favais surtout^ you 
know, ce jargon du monde, and, however it came about, 
I was looked upon as a leading light among the young 
men of Petersburg. What laised me more than all m 
common estimation, c'est cette liaison avec Madame D.j 
about which a great deal was said in Petersburg ; but I 



124 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

was frightfully youDg at that time, and did not prize 
these advantages very highly. I was simpl}^ young 
and stupid. What more did I need? Just then that 
Metenin had some notoriety " — 

And Guskof went on in the same fashion to relate to 
me the history of his misfortunes, which I will omit, as 
it would not be at all interesting. 

"Two months I remained under arrest," he contin- 
ued, "absolutely alone; and what thoughts did I not 
have during that time? But, you know, when it was 
all over, as though every tie had been broken with the 
past, then it became easier for me. Mon p^re, — you 
have heard tell of him, of course, a man of iron will 
and strong convictions, — il m'a desherite^ and broken 
off all intercourse with me. According to his convic- 
tions he had to do as he did, and I don't blame him 
at all. He was consistent. Consequently I have not 
taken a step to induce him to change his mind. M3' 
sister was abroad. Madame D. is the only one who 
wrote to me when I was released, and she sent me 
assistance ; but you understand that I could not accept 
it, so that I had none of those little things which make 
one's position a little easier, you know, — books, linen, 
food, nothmg at all. At this time I thought things over 
and over, and began to look at life with different eyes. 
For instance, this noise, this society gossip about me 
in Petersburg, did not interest me, did not flatter me : 
it all seemed to me ridiculous. I felt that I mj^self 
had been to blame ; I was young and indiscreet ; I had 
spoiled my career, and I only thought how I might 
get into the right track again. And I felt that I had 
strength and energy enough for it. After my arrest, 
as I told you, I was sent here to the Caucasus to the 
N. regiment. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 125 

" I thought," he went on to say, all the time becom- 
ing more and more animated, — " I thought that here 
in the Caucasus, la vie de camp, the simple, honest men 
with whom I should associate, and war and danger, 
would all admirabh' agree with my mental state, so that 
I might begin a new life. They will see me under fire.^ 
I shall make myself liked ; I shall be respected for 
my real self, — the cross — non-commissioned officer ; 
they will relieve me of my fine ; and I shall get up again, 
et voiis savez avec ce prestige dii malheur! But, quel 
deserwhantement ! You can't imagine liow 1 have been 
deceived ! You know what sort of men the officers of 
our regiment are." 

He did not speak for some little time, waiting, as it 
appeared, for me to tell him that I knew the society of 
our officers here was bad ; but 1 made him no reply. It 
went against my grain that he should expect me, be- 
cause I knew French, forsooth, to be obliged to take 
issue with tiie society of the officers, which, during my 
long residence in the Caucasus, I had had time enough 
to appreciate fully, and for which I had far higher re- 
spect than for the society from which Mr. Guskof had 
sprung. I wanted to tell him so, but his position 
constrained me. 

''In the N. regiment the society of tlie officers is a 
thousand times worse than it is here," he continued. 
" 1 liope that it is saying a good deal ; fesp^re que c'est 
beaucoup dire; that is, you cannot imagine what it is. 
I am not speaking of the yunkers and the soldiers, 
That is horrible, it is so bad. At first they received 
me very kindly, that is absolutely the truth ; but when 
they saw tliat I could not help despising them, you 
know, in these inconceivably small circumstances, they 

* On Die terra au feu. 



126 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

saw that T was a man absolutely different, standing far 
above them, they got angry with me, and began to put 
various little humiliations on me. You haven't an idea 
what I had to suffer.^ Then this forced relationship 
with the yuukers, and especially with the small means 
that I had — I lacked every thing ; ^ I had only what my 
sister used to send me. Anct here's a proof for you ! 
As much as it made me suffer, I with my character, 
avec maJlerU^fai ecris d mon pdre, begged him to send 
me something. I understand how living four j^ears of 
such a life may make a man like our cashiered Dromof 
who drinks with soldiers, and writes notes to all the 
officers asking them to loan him three rubles, and sign- 
ing it, tout d vous^ Dromof. One must have such a 
character as I have, not to be mired in the least by such 
a horrible position." 

For some time he walked in silence by my side. 

" Have you a cigarette? " ^ he asked me. 

^' And so I staid right where I was? Yes. I could 
not endure it physically, because, though we were 
wretched, cold, and ill-fed, I lived like a common sol- 
dier, but still the officers had some sort of considera- 
tion for me. I had still some prestige that they regarded. 
I wasn't sent out on guard nor for drill. I could 
not have stood that. But morally my sufferings were 
frightful ; and especially because I didn't see any es- 
cape from my position. I wrote my uncle, begged 
him to get me transferred to my present regiment, 
which, at least, sees some service ; and I thought that 
here Pavel Dmitri^vitch, qui est le Jils de VinteyidCint de 
monp^re, might be of some use to me. My uncle did 

* Ce que )*ai eu a souffHr vous ne vous faites pas une id4e. 

2 Avec fcs pedis moyens que j'avais,Je manquais de tout. 

3 •• Aoez-vous un papiros t •' 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 127 

this for me ; I was transferred. After that regiment 
this one seemed to me a collection of chamberlains. 
Then Pavel Dmitri^vitch was here ; he knew who I was, 
and I was splendidly received. At my uncle's request 
— a Guskof, vous savez; but I forgot that with these 
men without cultivation and undeveloped, — they can't 
appreciate a man, and show him marks of esteem, unless 
he has that aureole of wealth, of friends ; and I noticed 
how, little by little, when they saw that I was poor, 
their behavior to me showed more and more indifference 
until they have come almost to dispise me. It is hor- 
rible, but it is absolutely the truth. 

'' Here I have been in action, I have fought, they 
have seen me under fire," ^ he continued ; " but when will 
it all end? I think, never. And my strength and 
energy have already begun to flag. Then I had ima- 
gined la guerre, la vie de camp; but it isn't at all what 
I see, in a sheepskin jacket, dirty linen, soldier's boots, 
and you go out in ambuscade, and the whole night long 
lie in the ditch with some Antonof reduced to the ranks 
for drunkenness, and any minute from behind the bush 
may come a rifle-shot and hit you or Antonof, — it's all 
the same which. That is not bravery: it's horrible, 
c'est affreux, it's killing ! " ^ 

" Well, you can be promoted a non-commissioned 
officer for this campaign, and next year an ensign," 
said I. 

" Yes, it may be : they promised me that in two years, 
and it's not up yet. What would those two years 
amount to, if I knew any one ! You can imagine this 
life with Pavel Dmitri^vitch ; cards, low jokes, drinking 
all the time ; if you wish to tell any thing that is weigh- 
ing on your mind, you would not be understood, or you 
1 On m'a vu au/eu. * (?a tue. 



128 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

would be laughed at ; they talk with you, not for the 
sake of sharing a thought, but to get somethiiig funny 
out of you. Yes, and so it has gone — in a brutal, 
beastly way, and you are always conscious that you 
belong to the rank and file ; they always make you feel 
that. Hence you can't realize what an enjoyment it is 
to talk d coRur ouveri to such a man as you are." 

I had never imagined what kind of a man I was, and 
cohsequently I did not know what answer to make 
him. 

'' Will you have your lunch now? " asked Nikita at 
this juncture, approaching me unseen in the darkness, 
and, as I could perceive, vexed at the presence of a 
guest. " Nothing but curd dumplings, there's none 
of the roast beef left." 

'' Has the captain had his lunch yet? " 

*' He went to bed long ago," replied Nikita gruffly. 
'* According to my directions, I was to bring you lunch 
here and your brandy." He muttered something else 
discontentedly, and sauntered off to his tent. After 
loitering a while longer, he brought us, nevertheless, a 
lunch-case ; he placed a candle on the lunch-case, and 
shielded it from the wind with a sheet of paper. He 
brought a saucepan, some mustard in a jar, a tin dip- 
per with a handle, and a bottle of absinthe. After 
arranging these things, Nikita lingered around us for 
some moments, and looked on as Guskof and I were 
drinking the liquor, and it was evidently very distaste- 
ful to him. By the feeble light shed by the candle 
through the paper, amid the encircling darkness, could 
be seen the seal-skin cover of the lunch-case, the 
supper arranged upon it, Guskof's sheepskin jacket, 
his face, and his small red hands which he used in lift- 
ing the patties from the pan. Every thing around us 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 129 

was black; and only by straining the sight could be 
seen the dark battery, the dark form of the sentry 
moving along the breastwork, on all sides the watch- 
fires, and on high the ruddy stars. 

Guskof wore a melancholy, almost guilty smile, as 
though it were awkward for him to look into m}' face 
after his confession. He drank still another glass 
of liquor, and ate ravenously, emptying the sauce- 
pan. 

"Yes; for you it must be a relief all the same,'* 
said I, for the sake of saying something, — " your ac- 
quaintance with the adjutant. He is a very good man, 
I have heard.'* 

'' Yes," replied the cashiered officer, " he is a kind 
man ; but he can't help being what he is, with his edu- 
cation, and it is useless to expect it." 

A flush seemed suddenly to cross his face. *' You 
remarked his coarse jest this evening about the ambus- 
cade;" and Guskof, though I tried several times to 
interrupt him, began to justify himself before me, and 
to show that he had not run away from the ambuscade, 
and that he was not a coward as the adjutant and 
Capt. S. tried to make him out. 

''As I was telling you," he went on to say, wiping 
his hands on his jacket, ''such people can't show any 
delicacy toward a man, a common soldier, who hasn't 
much money either. That's beyond their strength. 
And here recently, while I haven't received any thing 
at all from my sister, I have been conscious that they 
have changed toward me. This sheepskin jacket, 
which I bouglit of a soldier, and which hasn't any 
warmth in it, because it's all worn off " (and here he 
showed me where the wool was gone from the inside), 
*' it doesn't arouse in him any sympathy or considera- 



130 ^.V OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

tion for my unhappioess, but scorn, which he does not 
take pains to liicle. Whatever my necessities may be, 
as now when I have nothing to eat except soldiers' 
gruel, and nothing to wear," he continued, casting 
down his eyes, and pouring out for himself still another 
glass of liquor, " he does not even offer to lend me some 
money, though he knows perfectly well that I would 
give it back to him ; but he waits till I am obliged to 
ask him for it. But you appreciate how it is for me 
to go to him. In your case I should say, square and 
fair, Vous Mes an dessiis de cela^ mon cher, je n'ai pas 
le sou. And you know," said he, looking straight into 
my eyes with an expression of desperation, '' I am 
going to tell you, square and fair, I am in a terrible 
situation : pouvez-vous me prater dix rubles argent? Mj^ 
sister ought to send me some by the next mail, et 
morinph^e" — 

''Why, most willingly," said I, although, on the 
contrary, it was trying and unpleasant, especially be- 
cause the evening before, having lost at cards, I had 
left only about five rubles in Nikita's care. " In a 
moment," said I, arising, " I will go and get it at the 
tent." 

" No, by and by : ne vous derangez pas.*' 

Nevertheless, not heeding him, I hastened to the 
closed tent, where stood my bed, and where the cap- 
tain was sleeping. 

" Aleksei Ivdnuitch, let me have ten rubles, please, 
for rations," said I to the captain, shaking him. 

"What! have you been losing again? But this 
very evening, you were not going to play any more," 
murmured the captain, still half asleep. 

" No, I have not been playing; but I want the 
money; let me have it, please." 



^A^ OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 131 

" Makatink ! " shouted the captain to his servant,^ 
'' hand me my bag with the money." 

*' Hush, hush ! " said I, hearing Guslvof s measured 
steps near the tent. 

"What? Why hush?" 

'* Because that cashiered fellow has asked to borrow 
it of me. He's right there." 

" Well, if you knew him, you wouldn't let him have 
it," remarked the captain. " I have heard about him. 
He's a dirty, low-lived fellow." 

Nevertheless, the captain gave me the monej^, or- 
dered his man to put away the bag, pulled the flap of 
the tent neatly to, and, again saying, "If you only 
knew him, you wouldn't let him have it," drew his 
head down under the coverlet. "Now you owe me 
thirty-two, remember," he shouted after me. 

When I came out of the tent, Guskof was walking 
near the settees ; and his slight figure, with his crooked 
legs, his shapeless cap, his long white hair, kept 
appearing and disappearing in the darkness, as he 
passed in and out of the light of the candles. He made 
believe not to see me. 

I handed him the money. He said " Jferci," and, 
crumpling the bank-bill, thrust it into his trousers 
pocket. 

" Now I suppose the game is in full swing at the 
adjutant's," he began immediately after this. 

" Yes, I suppose so." 

"He's a wonderful player, alwa3'S bold, and never 
backs out. When he's in luck, it's fine ; but when 
it does not go well with him, he can lose frightfully. 
He has given proof of that. During this expedition, 
if you reckon his valuables, he has lost more than 

* denshchik. 



132 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

fifteen hundred rubles. But, as he played discreetly 
before, that officer of yours seemed to have some 
doubts about his honor." 

"Well, that's because he . . . Nikita, haven't we 
any of that red Kavkas wine ^ left?" I asked, very 
much enlivened by Guskof's conversational talent. 
Nikita still kept muttering ; but he brought us the red 
wine, and again looked on angrily as Guskof drained 
his glass. In Guskof's behavior was noticeable his 
old freedom from constraint. I wished that he would 
go as soon as possible ; it seemed as if his only rea- 
son for not going was because he did not wish to go 
immediately after receiving the money. I said nothing. 

"How could you, who have means, and were under 
no necessity, simplj' de gaiete de coeu7\ make up your 
mind to come and serve in the Caucasus? That's 
what I don't understand," said he to me. 

I endeavored to explain this act of renunciation, 
which seemed so strange to him. 

" I can imagine how disagreeable the society of 
these officers — men without any comprehension of 
culture — must be for you. You could not under- 
stand each other. You see, you might live ten j-ears, 
and not see any thing, and not hear about anj- thing, 
except cards, wine, and gossip about rewards and cam- 
paigns." 

It was unpleasant for me, that he wished me to put 
myself on a par with him in his position ; and, with 
absolute honest}^ I assured him that I was very fond 
of cards and wine, and gossip about campaigns, and 
that I did not care to have an}' better comrades than 
those with whom I was associated. But he would not 
believe me. 

1 cliikir. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 133 

*' Well, you may saj' so," he continued; "but the 
lack of women's society, — I mean, of course, /emmes 
comme il faiit^ — is that not a terrible deprivation ? I 
don't know what I would give now to go into a parlor, 
if only for a moment, and to have a look at a pretty 
woman, even though it were through a crack.** 

He said nothing for a little, and drank still another 
glass of the red wine. 

'' Oh, my God, my God ! ^ If it only might be our 
fate to meet again, somewhere in Petersburg, to live 
and move among men, among ladies ! '* 

He drank up the dregs of the wine still left in the 
bottle, and when he had finished it he said, '•' Akh! 
pardon^ maybe 3'ou wanted some more. It was hor- 
ribly careless of me. However, I suppose I must 
have taken too much, and my head isn't very strong. ^ 
There was a time when I lived on Morskaia Street, au 
rez-de'c7iauss4e, and had marvellous apartments, furni- 
ture, you know, and I was able to arrange it all beauti- 
fully, not so very expensively though ; my father, to 
be sure, gave me porcelains, flowers, and silver, — a 
wonderful lot. Le matin je sortais, visits, d 5 heures 
riguli^rement. I used to go and dine with her; often 
she was alone. Jl faut avouer que c'kait une femme 
ravissante! You didn't know her at all, did you? " 

''No." 

'' You see, there was such a high degree of woman- 
liness in her, and such tenderness, and what love ! 
Lord ! I did not know how to appreciate my happi- 
ness then. We would return after the theatre, and 
have a little supper together. It was never dull where 
she was, toiijours gale, toujours aimante. Yes, and I 
had never imagined what rare happiness it was. Et 

1 Akh, Bozhe moi, Bozhe moi ! 2 Etje n'ai pas la tete forte. 



134 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

fai heaucoup h me reprocJier in regard to her. Je Vcn 
fait souffrir et souvent. I was outrageous. Akh! 
What a marvellous time that was ! Do I bore you ? ' * 

''No, not at all." 

"Then 1 will tell you about our evenings. I used 
to go — that stairway, every flower-pot I knew, — 
the door-handle, all was so lovely, so familiar ; then the 
vestibule, her room . . . No, it will never, never come 
back to me again ! Even now she writes to me : if 
3'ou will let me, I will show you her letters. But I am 
not what I was ; I am ruined ; I am no longer worthy 
of her. . . . Yes, I am ruined forever. Je suis ca8s4. 
There's no energy in me, no pride, nothing — nor even 
any rank.^ . . . Yes, 1 am ruined ; and no one will 
ever appreciate my sufferings. Every one is indiffer- 
ent. I am a lost man. Never any chance for me to 
rise, because I have fallen morally . . . into the mire 
— I have fallen." . . . 

At this moment there was evident in his words a 
genuine, deep despair : he did not look at me, but sat 
motionless. 

" Why are j'ou in such despair? " I asked. 

" Because I am abominable. This life has degraded 
me, ail that was in me, all is crushed out. It is not 
by pride that I hold out, but by abjectness : there's 
no dignite dans le malheur. I am humiliated every 
moment ; I endure it all ; I got myself into this abase- 
ment. This mire has soiled me. I myself have be- 
come coarse : I have forgotten what I used to know ; I 
can't speak French any more ; I am conscious that 
I am base and low. I cannot tear myself away from 
these surroundings, indeed 1 cannot. I might have 
been a hero : give me a regiment, gold epaulets, a 

1 blagorodstoa, noble birth, nobility. 




AN OLD AC QUAINT AN CIS. " ""^ 135 



trumpeter, but to march in the ranks with some wild 
Anton Bondarenko or the like* and feel that between 
me and him there was no difference at all — that he 
might be killed or I might be killed — all the same, 
that thought is maddening. You understand how hor- 
rible it is to think that some ragamuffin may kill me, a 
man who has thoughts and feelings, and that it would 
make no difference if alongside of me some Antonof 
were killed, — a being not different from an animal — 
and that it might easily happen that I and not this 
Antonof were killed, which is always une fatalite for 
every lofty and good man. I know that they call me 
a coward : grant that I am a coward, I certainly am a 
coward, and can't be any thing else. Not only am I 
a coward, but I am in my wa}' a low and despicable 
man. Here 1 have just been borrowing money of j^ou, 
and 3'ou have the right to despise me. No, take back 
your money." And he held out to me the crumpled 
bank-bill. '' I want you to have a good opinion of 
me." He covered his face with his hands, and burst 
into tears. I really did not know what to say or do. 

"Calm yourself," I said to him. ''You are too 
sensitive ; don't take every thing so to heart ; don't 
indulge in self-analysis, look at things more simply. 
You yourself say that you have character. Keep up 
good heart, you won't have long to wait," I said to 
him, but not very consistent!}', because I was much 
stirred both by a feeling of sympathy and a feeling of 
repentance, because I had allowed myself mentally to 
sin in my judgment of a man truly and deeply un- 
happy. 

"Yes," he began, "if I had heard even once, at 
the time when T was in that hell, one single word of 
sympathy, of advice, of friendship — one humane word 



136 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

such {IS 3'ou have just spoken, perhaps I might have 
cahnly endured all ; perhaps I might have struggled, 
and been a soldier. But now this is horrible. . . . 
AVhen 1 think soberly, I long for death. Why should 
I love my despicable life and my own self, now that I 
am ruined for all that is worth while in the world? 
And at the least danger, I suddenly, in spite of m3-self , 
begin to pray for my miserable life, and to watch over 
It as though it were precious, and I cannot, je ne 2^uis 
2)as, control myself. — That is, I could," he continued 
again after a minute's silence, ''but this is too hard 
work for me, a monstrous work, when 1 am alone. 
With others, under special circumstances, when you are 
going into action, 1 am hrsixe^fai fait mes epreuves, 
because I am vain and proud : that is my failing, and in 
presence of others. . . . Do you know, let me spend the 
night with you : with us, they will play all night long ; 
it makes no difference, anywhere, on the ground.*' 

While Nikita was making the bed, we got up, and 
once more began to walk up and down in the darkness 
on the battery. Certainly Guskof's head must have 
been very weak, because two glasses of liquor and two 
of wine made him dizzy. As we got up and moved 
away from the candles, I noticed that he again thrus't 
the ten-ruble bill into his i)Ocket, trying to do so with- 
out my seeing it. During all the foregoing conversa- 
tion, he had held it in his hand. He continued to 
reiterate how he felt that he might regain his old 
station if he had a man such as I were to take some 
interest in him. 

W^e were just going into the tent to go to bed when 
suddenly a cannon-ball whistled over us, and buried 
itself in the ground not far from us. So strange it 
was, — that peacefully sleepmg camp, our conversation. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 137 

find suddenly the hostile cannon-ball which flew from 
God knows where, into the midst of our tents, — so 
strange that it was some time before I could realize 
what it was. Our sentinel, Andreief, walking up and 
down on the battery, moved toward me. 

" Ha ! he's crept up to us. It was the fire here that 
he aimed at," said he. 

" We must rouse the captain," said I, and gazed at 
Guskof. 

He stood cowering close to the ground, and stam- 
mered, trying to say, " Th-that's th-the ene-my's . . . 
f-f-fire — th-that's — hidi — ." Further he could not 
say a word, and I did not see how and where he 
disappeared so instantaneously. 

In the captain's tent a candle gleamed ; his cough, 
which always troubled him when he was awake, was 
heard ; and he himself soon appeared, asking for a 
linstock to light his little pipe. 

'' What does this mean, old man? " ^ he asked with 
a smile. " Aren't they willing to give me a little sleep 
to-night? P^irst it's you with your cashiered friend, 
and then it's Shamyl. What shall we do, answer him 
or not? There was nothing about this in the instruc- 
tions, was there? " 

" Nothing at all. There he goes again," said I. 
''Two of them!" 

Indeed, in the darkness, directly in front of us, 
flashed two fires, like two eyes ; and quickly over our 
heads flew one cannon-ball and one heavy shell. It 
must have been meant for us, coming with a loud and 
penetrating hum. From the neighboring tents the 
soldiers hastened. You could hear them hawking and 
talking and stretching themselves. 

1 hdtluHhka. 



138 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

"Hist! the fuse sings like a nightingale," was the' 
remark of the artillerist. 

"Send for Niklta," said the captain with his per- 
petually benevolent smile. " Nikita, don't hide your- 
self, but listen to the mountain nightingales." 

" Well, your honor," ^ said Nikita, who was standing 
near the captaui, " I have seen them — these nightin- 
gales. I am not afraid of 'em ; but here was that 
stranger who was here, he was drinking up your red 
wine. When he heard how that shot dashed by our 
tents, and the shell rolled b}-, he cowered down like 
some wild beast." 

" However, we must send to the commander of the 
artillery," said the captain to me in a serious tone of 
authority, " and ask whether we shall reply to the 
fire or not. It will probably be nothing at all, but still 
it may. Have the goodness to go and ask him. Have 
a horse saddled. Do it as quickly as possible, even if 
you take my Polkan." 

In five minutes they brought me a horse, and I gal- 
loped off to the commander of the artillery. " Look 
you, return on foot," whispered the punctilious cap- 
tain, " else they won't let you through the lines." 

It was half a verst to the artillery commander's, the 
whole road ran between the tents. As soon as I rode 
away from our fire, it became so black that I could not 
see even the horse's ears, but only the watch-fires, now 
seeming very near, now very far off, as they gleamed 
mto my eyes. After I had ridden some distance, 
trusting to the intelligence of the horse whom I al- 
lowed free rein, I began to distinguish the white four- 
cornered tents and then the black tracks of the road. 

1 vashe vuisokohlAigorddie. Gertnau, hochwohlgeborener, high-well 
bom; regulation title of officers from major to general. 



AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE, 139 

After a half-hour, having asked my way three times, 
and twice stumbled over the tent-stakes, causing each 
time a volley of curses from the tents, and twice been 
detained by the sentinels, 1 reached the artillery com- 
mander's. While I was on the way, I heard two more 
cannon shot in the direction of our camp ; but the 
projectiles did not reach to the place where the head- 
quarters were. The artillery commander ordered not 
to reply to the firing, the more as the enemy did 
not remain in the same place ; and I went back, lead- 
ing the horse by the bridle, making ni}' way on foot 
between the infantry tents. More than once I delayed 
my steps, as I went by some soldier's tent where a 
light was shining, and some merry-andrew was telling 
a storj' ; or I listened to some educated soldier reading 
from some book while the whole division overflowed 
the tent, or hung around it, sometimes interrupting the 
reading with various remarks; or I simply listened to 
the talk about the expedition, about the fatherland, or 
about their chiefs. 

As I came around one of the tents of the third 
battalion, I heard Guskof's rough voice : he was speak- 
ing hilariously and rapidly. Young voices replied to 
him, not those of soldiers, but of gay gentlemen. It 
was evidently the tent of some yunker or sergeant- 
major. I stopped short. 

'' Tve known him a long time," Guskof was saying. 
" When I lived in Petersburg, he used to come to my 
house often ; and I went to his. He moved iu the 
best society." 

" Whom are you talking about? " asked a drunken 
voice. 

'' About the prince," said Guskof. " We were rela- 
tives, you see, but, more than all, we were old friends. 



140 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

It's a mighty good thing, you know, gentlemen, to have 
such an acquaintance. You see, he's fearfully rich. 
To him a hundred silver rubles is a mere bagatelle. 
Here, I just got a little money out of him, enough to 
last me till my sister sends." 

" Let's have some." 

'' Right away. — Savelitch, my dear," said Guskof, 
coming to the door of the tent," here's ten rubles for 
you : go to the sutler, get two bottles of Kakhetinski. 
Any thing else, gentlemen? What do you say?" and 
Guskof, with unsteady gait, with dishevelled hair, with- 
out his hat, came out of the tent. Throwing open his 
jacket, and thrusting his hands into the pockets of his 
trousers, he stood at the door of the tent. Though he 
was in the light, and I in darkness, I trembled with 
fear lest he should see me, and I went on, trying to 
make no noise. 

*'Who goes there?" shouted Guskof after me in a 
thoroughly diiinken voice. Apparently, the cold took 
hold of him. *' Who the devil is going off with that 
horse?" 

I made no answer, and silently went on my way. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 



A TALE. 



At seven o'clock in the evening, having taken my tea, 
I started from a station, the name of which I have quite 
forgotten, though I remember that it was somewhere 
in the region of the Don Cossacks, not far from Novo- 
cherkask. It was already dark when I took my seat 
in the sledge next to Alyoshka, and wrapped myself in 
my fur coat and the robes. Back of the station-house 
it seemed warm and calm. Though it was not snowing, 
not a single star was to be seen overhead, and the sky 
seemed remarkably low and black, in contrast with the 
clear snowy expanse stretching out before us. 

We had scarcely passed by the black forms of the 
windmills, one of which was awkwardly waving its 
huge wings, and had left the station behind us, when 
I perceived that the road was growing rougher and 
more drifted ; the wind began to blow more fiercely on 
the left, and to toss the horses' manes and tails to one 
side, and obstiuately to lift and carry away the snow 
stirred up by the runners and hoofs. The little bell 
rang with a muffled sound ; a draught of cold air forced 
its way through the opening in my sleeves, to my very 
back ; and the inspector's advice came into my head, 

141 



142 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

that I bad better not go farther, lest I wander all night, 
and freeze to death on the road. 

'' Won't you get us lost? " said I to the driver,^ but, 
as I got no answer, I put the question more explicitly : 
" Say, shall we reach the station, driver? We sha'n't 
lose our way?'* 

" God knows," was his reply; but he did not turn 
his head. " You see what kind of going we have. No 
road to be seen. Great heavens ! " ^ 

'' Be good enough to tell me, do you hope to reach 
the station, or not?" I insisted. "Shall we get 
there?" 

*' Must get there," said the driver ; and he muttered 
something else, which I could not hear for the wind. 

1 did not wish to turn about, but the idea of wander- 
ing all night in the cold and snow over the perfectly 
shelterless steppe, which made up this part of the Don 
Cossack land, was very unpleasant. Moreover, not- 
withstanding the fact that I could not, by reason of 
the darkness, see him very well, m}^ driver, somehow, 
did not please me, 'nor inspire any confidence. He sat 
exactly in the middle, with his legs in, and not on one 
side ; his stature was too great ; his voice expressed 
indolence ; his cap, not like those usually worn by his 
class, was large and loose on all sides. Besides, he 
did not manage his horses in the proper way, but held 
the reins in both hands, just like the lackey who sat on 
the box behind the coachman ; and, chieily, I did not 
believe in him, because he had his ears wrapped up in 
a handkerchief. In a word, he did not please me ; and 
it seemed as if that crooked, sinister back looming 
before me boded nothing good. 

*' In my opinion, it would be better to turn about," 

* yamshc/uk. * gospodi-bdtiushka ! Literally, Lord, little father. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 143 

said Alyoshka to me: *'fine thing it would be to be 
lost!" 

"Great heavens! see what a snowstorm's coming! 
No road in sight. It blinds one's eyes. Great 
heavens ! ' ' repeated the driver. 

We had not been gone a quarter of an hour when 
the driver stopped the horses, handed the reins to 
Alyoshka, awkwardly liberated his legs from the seat, 
and went to search for the road, crunching over the 
snow in his great boots. 

*' What is it? Where are you going? Are we lost?" 
I asked, but the driver made no reply, but, turning 
his face away from the wind, which cut his eyes, 
marched off from the sledge. 

*' Well, how is it? " I repeated, when he returned. 

"Nothing at all," said he to me impatiently and 
with vexation, as though I were to blame for his miss- 
ing the road ; and again slowly wrapping up his big 
legs in the robe, he gathered the reins in his stiffened 
mittens. 

"What's to be done?" I asked as we started off 
again. 

" What's to be done? We shall go as God leads." 

And we drove along in the same dog-trot over what 
was evidently an untrodden waste, sometimes sinking 
in deep, mealy snow, sometimes gliding over crisp, 
unbroken crust. 

Although it was cold, the snow kept melting quickly 
on my collar. The low-flying snow-clouds increased, 
and occasionally the dry snowflakes began to fall. 

It was clear that we were going out of our way, 
because, after keeping on for a quarter of an hour 
more, we saw no sign of a verst-post. 

" Well, what do you think about it now ? " I asked 



144 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

of the driver once more. " Shall we get to the 
station ? ' ' 

''Which one? We should go back if we let the 
horses have their way: they will take us. But, as 
for the next one, that's a problem. . . . Only we 
might perish." 

"Well, then, let us go back," said I. "And 
indeed ' ' — 

"How is it? Shall we turn about?" repeated the 
driver. 

" Yes, yes : turn back." 

The driver shook the reins. The horses started off 
more rapidly ; and, though I did not notice that we 
had turned around, the wind changed, and soon through 
the snow appeared the windmills. The driver's good 
spirits returned, and he began to be communicative. 

" Lately," said he, " in just such a snowstorm some 
people coming from that same station lost their way. 
Yes : they spent the night in the hayricks, and barely 
managed to get here in the morning. Thanks to the 
hayricks, they were rescued. If it had not been for 
them, they would have frozen to death, it was so cold. 
And one froze his foot, and died three weeks after- 
wards." 

" But now, you see, it's not cold '; and it's growing 
less windy," I said. " Couldn't we go on? " 

"It's warm enough, but it's snowing. Now going 
back, it seems easier. But it's snowing hard. Might 
go on, if 3-0U were a courier or something ; but this is 
for your own sake. What kind of a joke would that 
be if a passenger froze to death? How, then, could I 
be answerable to your grace? " 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 145 



II. 



At this moment we heard behind us the bells of a 
troika which was rapidly overtaking us. 

"A courier's bell," said my driver. ''There's one 
such for every station." 

And, in fact, the bell of the courier's troika, the 
sound of which now came clearly to me on the wind, 
was peculiarly beautiful, — clear, sonorous, deep, and 
jangling a little. As I then knew, this was a hunts- 
man's team ; three bells, — one large one in the centre, 
with the crimson tone, as it is called, and two small 
ones tuned in thirds. The sound of this triad and the 
tinkling fifth, ringing through the air, was extraordi- 
narily effective and strangely pleasant in this dark 
desert steppe. 

''The posht is coming," said my driver when the 
foremost of the three troikas drew up in line with ours. 
" Well, how is the road? is it possible to go on?" he 
cried to the last of the drivers. But the yamshchik 
onl}' shouted to his horses, and made no repl}'. 

The sound of the bells quickly died away on the 
wind, almost as soon as the post- team passed us. 

Of course my driver felt ashamed. 

"Well, you shall go, barin," he said to me. " Peo- 
ple have made their way through, now their tracks 
will be fresh." 

I agreed ; and once more we faced the wind, and 
began to crawl along on the deep snow. I kept my 



146 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

eyes on one side on the road, so that we should not 
get off the track that had been made bj^ the other 
sledges. For two versts the tracks were clearly visi- 
ble, then there began to be only a slight irregularity 
where the runners had gone ; and soon I really could 
no longer distinguish whether it was the track, or 
merely a layer of snow heaped up. My eyes grew 
weary of gazing at the monotonous stretch of snow 
under the runners, and I began to look ahead. The 
third verst-post we had already seen, but the fourth we 
could not find at all. As before, we went in the teeth 
of the wind, and with the wind, and to the right and 
to the left ; and finally we reached such a state that 
the driver declared that we must have turned off to the 
right. I declared that we must have turned off to 
the left, and Alyoshka was sure that we ought to go 
back. Again we stopped a number of times, the 
driver uncoiled his long legs, and crawled along trying 
to find the road. But all in vain. I also got out Once 
to see whether it were the road or something else that 
attracted my attention. But I had scarcely taken six 
steps with difficulty against the wind, and convinced 
myself that we were surrounded by the same monoto- 
nous white heaps of snow, and that the road existed 
only in my imngination, when I lost sight of the sledge. 
I shouted, " Yamslichik ! Alyoshka!" but my voice, 
— I felt how the wind tore it right out of my mouth, and 
carried it in a twinkling far from me. I went in the 
direction where the sledge had been — the sledge was 
not there. I went to the right — not there either. I 
am ashamed to recollect what a loud, penetrating, and 
even rather despairing voice, I summoned to shout 
once more, " Yamshchik ! " and there he was two 
steps away. His black figure, with his whip, and his 



LOST ON TTIK STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 147 

huge cap hanging clown on one side, suddenly loomed 
up before me. He led me to the sledge. 

'' Thank the Lord, it's still warm ! " said he. " To 
perish with the cold — awful ! Great heavens ! " ^ 

'' Let the horses find their own way, let us turn 
back,'* said I, as I took my place in the sledge. 
"Won't they take us back? hey, driver?" 

*' They ought to." 

He gave the horses the reins, cracked his whip three 
times over the saddle of the shaft-horse, and again we 
started off at hap-hazard. We went for half an hour. 
Suddenly before us again I heard the well-known bell 
of the hunting establishment, and the other two. But 
now they were coming toward us. It was the same 
three troikas, which had already deposited the mail, 
and, with a change of horses attached behind, were 
returning to the station. The courier's troika, with 
powerful horses witli the hunting-bell, quicklj' dashed 
ahead. A single driver sat m it on the driver's seat, 
and was shouting vigorously-. Behind him, in the 
middle one of the empty troikas, were two other 
drivers ; and their loud and hilarious talk could be 
heard. One of them was smoking a pipe ; and the 
spark, brightened by the wind, lighted up a part of his 
face. 

As I looked at them, I felt ashamed that I was afraid 
to go on ; and my driver doubtless had the same feel- 
ing, because we both said with one voice, "Let us 
follow them." 

* gospodi-bdtiushka. 



148 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 



III. 



My driver, without waiting for the last troi'ka to pass, 
began awkwardlj' to turn around ; and the thills hit 
the horses attached behind. One of the troika teams 
shied, tore away the reins, and galloped off. 

" Hey there, you squint-eyed devil ! Don't you see 
where you are turning? Running people down, you 
devil!" in a hoarse, discordant voice scolded one of 
the drivers, a short, little old man, as I judged by his 
voice and expression. He sprang hastily out of the 
hindmost sledge where he had been sitting, and started 
to run after the horses, still continuing roughly and 
violently to vilify my yamshchik. 

But the horses did not come back. The driver ran 
after them, and in one instant both horses and driver 
were lost from sight in the white mist of the storm. 

*' Vasi-I-i-li ! bring the ba}' horse here. Can't ketch 
him, so-o-o," echoed his voice in the distance. 

One of the drivers, a very tall fellow, got out of his 
sledge, silently unhitched his troika, mounted one of 
the horses by the breeching, and crunching over the 
snow in a clumsy gallop, disappeared in the same 
direction. 

Our own troika, with the two others, followed on 
over the steppe, behind the courier's which dashed 
ahead in full trot, jingling its bell. 

" How is it? He'll get 'em ? " said m^* driver, refer- 
ring to the one who had gone to catch the horses. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 149 

" If that mare didn't find the horses she wouldn't be 
good for much, you know: she'd wander off, so that 
— she'd get lost." 

From the moment that my driver had the company 
of other teams he became more hilarious and talkative ; 
and, as I had no desire to sleep, I did not fail, as a 
matter of course, to make the most of it. I took pains 
to ask him about his home and his family, and soon 
learned that he was a fellow-countryman of mine from 
Tula, — a peasant, belonging to a noble family from the 
village of Kirpitchno^ ; that they had very little land, 
and the grain had entirely ceased to grow, owing to 
the cholera ; that he and one of his brothers had staid 
at home, and a third had gone as a soldier ; that since 
Christmas they had lacked bread, and had been obliged 
to work out ; that his younger brother had kept the 
farm because he was married, but that he himself was 
a widower ; that his villagers every year came here to 
exercise the trade of yamshclilk, or driver ; that, though 
he had not come as a regular driver, yet he was in the 
postal-service, so as to help his brother ; that he earned 
there, thanks to God, a hundred and twenty paper 
rubles a year, of which he sent a hundred to his 
family; and that it would be good living, "but the 
cou/iers were very wild beasts, and the people here 
were impudent." 

'' Now, what was that driver scolding about? Great 
heavens ! ^ did I mean to lose his horses for him ? 
Did I treat him in a mean way? And why did he go 
galloping off after 'em? They'd have come in of 
their own accord. Anyway, 'twould be better for the 
horses to freeze to death than for him to get lost," 
said the pious muzhik. 

1 gospodi-bdtiuahka. 



150 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

*' What is that black thing I see coming? " I asked, 
pointing to some dark object in front of us. 

*' That's a baggage-train. Splendid wheeling ! " he 
added, as he came up with the huge mat-covered vans 
on wheels, following one after the other. " See, not a 
soul to be seen — all asleep. The wise horse knows : 
you won't drive her from the road, never. . . . We've 
driven in that same way — so we know," he added. 

It was indeed strange to see the huge vans covered 
with snow from the matted tops to the wheels, moving 
along, absolutely' alone. Only the front corner of the 
snow-covered mat would be lifted by two fingers ; and, 
for a moment, a cap would peer out as our bells jingled 
past the train. A great piebald horse, stretching out 
his neck, and straining his back, walked with meas- 
ured pace over the drifted road, monotonously shaking 
his shaggy head under the whitened bell-bow,^ and 
pricking up one snow-covered ear as we went by. 

After we had gone still another half-hour, the driver 
once more turned to me, — 

''Well, what do you think, bdrin? Are we getting 
along well? " 

"I don't know," I said. 

" Before, the wind blew in our faces, but now we go 
right along with it. No, we sha'n't get there : we are 
off the track," he said in conclusion, with perfect 
equanimity. 

It was evident, that, though he was very timid, 3'et, 
as "death in company with others is pleasant," he 
was perfectly content to die now that there were a 
number of us, and he was not obliged to take the lead, 
and be responsible. He coolly made observations on 

* dugcl, the distinctive part of the liussiaa harness, rising high above 
the horse, and carrying the bclis. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 151 

the mistakes of the head driver, as though it were not 
of the least consequence to himself. In fact, I had 
noticed that sometimes the front troika appeared on 
my right, and again on my left. It seemed to me, 
too, that we were making a circle in very small space. 
However, it might be that it was an ocular deception, 
just as sometimes it seemed as if the front troika were 
climbing up a mountain or were going along a slope or 
down a mountain, even when the steppe was everywhere 
perfectly level. 

After we had gone on a little while longer, I saw, as 
it seemed to me, at a distance, on the very horizon, a 
long black, moving line ; but it quickly became plain 
to me that it was the same baggage-train which we had 
passed. In exactly the same way, the snow covered 
the creaking wheels, several of which did not turn ; 
in exactly the same way, the men were sleeping under 
the matted tops ; and likewise the piebald leader, 
swelling out his nostrils, snuffed out the road, and 
pricked back his ears. 

"See, we've gone round in a circle; we've gone 
round in a circle ! Here's the same baggage-train 
again ! " exclaimed my driver in a discontented tone. 
'* The courier's horses are good ones, so it makes no 
difference to him, even if he does go on a wild-goose 
chase. But ours will get tired out if we have to spend 
the whole night here." 

He had an attack of coughing. 

" Should we go back, bdrin, owing to the mistake? " 
"No! Why? We shall come out somewhere." 
"Come out where? We shall have to spend the 
night in the steppe. How it's snowing ! . . . Great 
heavens ! " ^ 

* gospodi-hdtluahka. 



152 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

Although it was clear to me that the head driver had 
lost both the road and the direction, and yet was not 
hunting for the road, but was singing at the top of his 
voice, and letting his horses take their own speed ; and 
so I did not like to part company from them. 

'' Follow them," said I. 

The 3'amshcliik drove on, but followed them less 
willingly than before, and no longer had any thing to 
say to me. 



LOST ON THE STEFPE ; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 153 



IV. 



The storm became more and more violent, and the 
snow fell dry and fine ; it seemed as if we were in dan- 
ger of freezing. My nose and cheeks began to tingle ; 
more frequently the draught of cold air insinuated itself 
under my furs, and it became necessar}^ to bundle up 
warmer. Sometimes the sledges bumped on the bare, 
icy crust from which the snow had been blown away. As 
I had already gone six hundred versts without sleeping 
under roof, and though I felt great interest in the out- 
come of our wanderings, my eyes closed in spite of me, 
and I drowsed. Once when I opened my eyes, I was 
struck, as it seemed to me at the first moment, by a 
bright light, gleaming over the white plain : the hori- 
zon widened considerably, the lowering black sky 
suddenly lifted up on all sides, the white slanting lines 
of the falling snow became visible, the shapes of the 
head troikas stood out clearly ; and when I looked up, 
it seemed to me at the first moment that the clouds had 
scattered, and that only the falling snow veiled the 
stai-s. At the moment that I awoke from my drowse, 
the moon came out, and cast through the tenuous 
clouds and the falling snow her cold bright beams. I 
saw clearly my sledge, hoi-ses, driver, and the three 
troikas, ploughing on in front : the first, the courier's, 
in which still sat on the box the one yamshchik driving 
at a hard trot ; the second, in which rode the two driv- 
ers, who let the horses go at their own pace, and had 



154 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR', THE SNOWSTORM. 

made a shelter out of a camel' s-hair coat ^ behind which 
they still smoked their pipes as could be seen by the 
sparks glowing in their direction ; and the third, in 
which no one was visible, for the yamshchik was com- 
fortably sleeping in the middle. The leading driver, 
however, while I was napping had several times halted 
his horses, and attempted to find the road. Then while 
we stopped the howling of the wind became more audi- 
ble, and the monstrous heaps of snow piling through 
the atmosphere seemed more tremendous. By the aid 
of the moonlight which made its way through the 
storm, I could see the driver's short figure, whip in 
hand, examining the snow before him, moving back 
and forth in the misty light, again coming back to the 
sledge, and springing sidewise on the seat; and then 
again I heard above the monotonous whistling of the 
wind, the comfortable, clear jingling and melody of 
the bells. AVhen the head driver crept out to find the 
marks of the road or the hayricks, each time was heard 
the lively, self-confident voice of one of the yamshchiks 
in the second sledge shouting, " Hey, Ignashka ! ^ you 
turned off too much to the left. Strike off to the right 
into the storm." Or, "Why are you going round in a 
circle? keep straight ahead as the snow flies. Follow 
the snow, then you'll hit it." Or, "Take the right, 
take the right, old man.^ There's something black, it 
must be a post." Or, " What are you getting lost for? 
why are you getting lost? Unhitch the piebald horse, 
and let him find the road for you. He'll do it every 
time. That would be the best way." 

The man who was so free with his advice not only 
did not offer to unhitch his off- horse, or go himself 

1 amiydk. * diminished diminutive of Ignat. 

' bratels tut mo'i ; literally, " thou brother mine." 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, TTIE SNOWSTORM. 155 

across the snow to hunt for the road, but did not even 
put his nose outside of his shelter-coat f and when 
Ignashka the leader, in reply to one of his proffers of 
advice, shouted to him to come and take the forward 
place since he knew the road so well, the mentor 
replied that when he came to drive a courier's sledge, 
then he would take the lead, and never once miss the 
road. '' But our horses wouldn't go straight through 
a snowdrift," he shouted : " they am't the right kind." 

"Then don't you worry yourselves," rephed Ignash- 
ka, gayly whistling to his horses. 

The yamshchik who sat in the same sledge with the 
mentor said nothing at all to Ignashka, and paid no 
attention to the difficulty, though he was not yet 
asleep, as I concluded by his pipe which still glowed, 
and because, when we halted, I heard his measured 
voice in uninterrupted flow. He was telling a story. 
Once only, when Ignashka for the sixth or seventh 
time came to a stop, it seemed to vex him because 
his comfort in travelling was disturbed, and he 
shouted, — 

" Stopping again ? He's missing the road on pur- 
pose. Call this a snowstorm ! The surveyor himself 
could not find the road ! he would let the horses find 
it. We shall freeze to death here ; just let him go on 
regardless ! " 

*'What! Don't you know a poshtellion froze to 
death last winter? " shouted my driver. 

All this time the driver of the third troika had not 
been heard from. But once while we were stopping, 
the mentor shouted, '' Fihpp ! ha! Filipp ! " and not 
getting any response remarked, — 

''Can he have frozen to death? Ignashka, you go 
and look." 



156 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

Ignashka, who was responsible for all, went to his 
sledge, and began to shake the sleeper. 

" See what drink has done for him ! Tell ns if 
you are frozen to death ! " said he, shaking him. 

The sleeper grunted a little, and then began to 
scold. 

*' Live enough, fellows ! '* said Ignashka, and again 
started ahead, and once more we drove on ; and with 
such rapidity that the little brown off-horse, in my 
three-span, which was constantly whipping himself with 
his tail, did not once interrupt his awkward gallop. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 157 



It was already about midnight, I judge, when the 
little old man and Vasili, who had gone in search of 
the runaway horses, rejoined us. They had caught 
the horses, and had now overtaken us ; but how in the 
world they had accomplished this in the thick, blinding 
snowstorm, in the midst of the bare steppe, was more 
than 1 could comprehend. The little old man, with 
his elbows and legs flying, came trotting up on the 
shaft-horse (the two other horses he had caught by 
the collars ; it was impossible to lead them in the 
snowstorm) . When they had caught up with me, he 
began to scold at my driver. 

" You see, you cross-eyed devil ! you " — 

*'0 Uncle Mitritch,"^ cried the talkative fellow in 
the second sledge, ''you alive? Come along where 
we are ! " 

The old man did not answer him, but continued to 
scold. When he had satisfied himself, he rejoined the 
second sledge. 

'' Get em all? " was asked him. 

" Why, of course we did." 

And his small figure leaped up and down on the 
horse's back as lie went off at full trot ; then he sprang 
down into the snow, and without stopping caught up 
with the sledge, and sat in it with his legs hanging 

1 Condensed form for Dmitrlyevltch, " son of Dmitri." The peasants 
often call cacli otlier by the patronymic. 



158 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

over the side. The tall Vasili, just as before, took 
his place in perfect silence in the front sledge with 
Ignashka ; and then the two began to look for the road 
together. 

v What a spitfire! Great heavens! " muttered my 
driver. 

For a long time after this we drove on without 
stopping, over the white waste, in the cold, pellucid, 
and wavering light of the snowstorm. When I opened 
my eyes, there before me rose the same clumsy, snow- 
covered cap ; the same low dugd or bell-bow, under 
which, between the leathern reins tightly stretched, 
there moved always at the same distance the head of 
the shaft-horse with the black mane blown to one side 
by the wind. And I could see, above his back, the 
brown off-horse on the right, with his short braided 
tail, and the whiffletree sometimes knocking against 
the dasher of the sleigh. If I looked below, then I 
saw the scunying snow stirred up by the runners, and 
constantly tossed and borne by the wind to one side. 
In front of me, always at the same distance, glided the 
other troikas. To left and right, all was white and 
bewildering. Vainly the eye sought for any nerw 
object : neither verst-post, nor hayrick, nor fence was 
to be seen ; nothing at all. Everywhere, all was 
white, white and fluctuating. Now the horizon seems 
to be indistinguishably distant, then it comes down 
within two steps on every side ; now suddenly a high 
white wall grows up on the right, and accompanies the 
course of the sledges, then it suddenly vanishes, and 
grows up in front, only to glide on in advance, farther 
and farther away, and disappear again. 

As I look up, it seems light. At the first moment, I 
nnaofine that throuoh the mist I see the stars ; but the 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. • 159 

stars, as I gaze, flee into deeper and deeper depths, and 
I see only the snow falling into face and eyes, and the 
collar of my fur coat ; ^ the sky has everywhere one 
tone of light, one tone of white, — colorless, monoto- 
nous, and constantly shifting. The wind seems to 
vary : at one moment it blows into my face, and flings 
the snow into my eyes ; the next it goes to one side, 
and peevishly tosses the collar of my shuba over my 
head, and insultingly slaps me in the face with it ; then 
it finds some crevice behind, and plays a tune upon it. 
I hear the soft, unceasing crunching of the hoofs and 
the runners on the snow, and the muffled tinkling of the 
bells, as we speed over the deep snow. Only occa- 
sionally when we drive against the wind, and glide over 
the bare frozen crust, I can clearly distinguish Ignat's 
energetic whistling, and the full chords of the chime, 
with the resounding jarring fifth ; and these sounds 
break suddenly and comfortingly upon the melancholy 
character of the desert ; and then again rings monoto- 
nously, with unendurable fidelit}^ of execution, the 
whole of that motive which involuntarily coincides with 
my thoughts. 

One of my feet began to feel cold, and when I turned 
round so as to protect it better, the snow which cov- 
ered my collar and m}' cap sifted down my neck, and 
made me shiver ; but still I was, for the most, comfort- 
able in my warm shuba, and drowsiness overcame me. 

* ahuba. 



160« LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 



VI. 



Things remembered and things conceived mixed and 
mingled witli wonderful quickness in my imagination. 

" The mentor who is always shouting from the sec- 
ond sledge, what kind of a man must he be? Probabl}^ 
red-haired, thick-set, with short legs, a man somewhat 
like Feodor Fillppuitch our old butler," is what 1 say 
to myself. 

And here I see the staircase of our great house, and 
five of the house-servants who with towels, with heavy 
steps, carry the pianoforte from the L ; 1 see P'eodor 
Filippuitch with the sleeves af his nankeen coat tucked 
up, carrying one of the pedal-s, and going in advance, 
unbolting the door, taking hold of the door-knob here, 
there pushing a little, now crawling under the legs ; he 
is here, there, and everywhere, crying with an anxious 
voice contiuualh', " Look out, take more weight, you 
there in front,! Be careful, you there at the tail- 
end ! Up — up — up — don't hit the door. There, 
there!" 

"Excuse me, Feodor Filippuitch! There ain't 
enough of us," says the gardener timidly, crushed up 
against the balustrade, and all red with exertion, lifting 
one end of the grand with all his remaining strength. 
But Feodor Filippuitch does not hold his peace. 

" And what does it mean? " I ask myself. " Does 
he think that he is of any use, that he is indispensable 
for the work in liand? or is he simply glad that God 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 161 

has given him this self-confident persuasive eloquence, 
and takes enjoyment in squandering it? " 

And I somehow see the pond, the weary servants, 
who, up to their knees in the water, drag the heavy 
net ; and again F^odor Filippuitch, shouting to every- 
body, walking up and down on the bank, and only now 
and then venturing to the brink, taking with his hand 
the golden carp, and letting the dirty water run out 
from his watering-pot, so as to fill it up with fresh. 

But here it is midday, in the month of July. Across 
the newly mown turf of the lawn, under the burning 
perpendicular rays of the sun, I seem to be going 
somewhere. I am still very young ; I am free from 
yearnings, free from desires. I am going to the pond, 
to my own favorite spot between the rose-bushes and 
the birch-tree alley ; and I shall lie down and nap. 
Keen is the sensation that I have, as I lie down, and 
look across the red thorny stems of the rose-bushes 
upon the dark ground with its dry grass and on the 
gleaming bright-blue mirror of the pond. It is a sen- 
sation of a peculiarly simple self-contentment and 
melancholy. All around me is so lovely, and this 
loveliness has such a powerful effect upon me, that it 
seems to me as if I myself were good ; and the one 
thing that vexes me is, that no one is there to admire 
me. 

It is hot. I try to go to sleep for comfort's sake ; 
but the flies, the unendurable flies, even here, give me 
no rest. They begin to swarm around me, and obsti- 
nately, insolently as it were, heavy as cherry-stones, 
jump from my forehead to my hands. A bee buzzes 
near me in the sunbeam. Yellow- winged butterflies 
fly wearily from flower to flower. 

I gaze up. It pains my eyes. The sun shines too 



162 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

bright through the light foliage of the bushy birch-tree, 
gracefully waving its branches high above my head, 
and it grows hotter still. I cover ray face with my 
handkerchief. It becomes stifling ; and the flies seem 
to stick to my hands, on which the perspiration stands. 
In the rose-bush the sparrows twitter under the thick 
leaves. One hops to the ground almost within my 
reach, makes two or three feints to peck energetically 
at the ground, and after making the little twigs crackle, 
and chirping gayly, flies away from the bushes ; an- 
other also hops to the ground, wags his little tail, looks 
around, and, like an arrow, flies off twittering after 
the first. At the pond are heard the blows of the 
pounder on the wet clothes ; and the noise re-echoes, 
and is carried far away down along the shore. I hear 
laughter and talking, and the splashing of bathers. 
The breath of the wind sweeps the tops of the birches 
far above my head, and bends them down again. I 
hear it moving the grass, and now the leaves of the 
rose-bushes toss and rustle on their stems. And now, 
lifting the corner of my handkerchief, it tickles my 
sweaty face, and pours in upon me in a cooling current. 
Through the opening where the handkerchief is lifted 
a fly finds his wa}', and timidly buzzes around my moist 
mouth. A dry twig begins to make itself felt under 
my back. No : it becomes unendurable ; I must get 
it out. But now, around the clump of bushes, I hear 
the sound of footsteps, and the frightened voice of a 
woman : — 

*' Mercy on me ! ^ what's to be done? And no man 
anywhere ! " 

" What's the matter?" I ask, running out into the 
sun, as a serving-woman, screaming, hurries past me. 

1 akh, bdtiitshki I 



J 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 163 

She merely glances at me, wrings her haqds, and hur- 
ries along faster. And here comes also the seventy- 
year-old Matryona, holding her handkerchief to her 
head, with her hair all in disorder, and hopping along 
with her lame leg in woollen stockings. Two girls 
come running, hand in hand ; and a ten-year-old boy 
in his father's jacket runs behind, clinging to the linen 
petticoat of one of them. 

" What has happened? " I ask of them. 

" A muzhik drowned ! '* 

"Where?" 

"In the pond.** 

" Who is he? one of ours? " 

"No, a tramp." 

The coachman Iv^n, bustling about in his big boots 
over the mown grass, and the fat overseer ^ Yakof , all 
out of breath, come hurrying to the pond ; and I follow 
after them. 

I experience the feeling which says to me, " Now 
jump in, and pull the muzhik out, and save him ; and 
all will admire you," which was exactly what I wanted. 

' ' Where is he ? where ? " I asked of the throng of 
domestics gathered on the shore. 

" Over there in the deepest part, on the other shore, 
almost at the baths," says the laundress, stowing away 
the wet linen on her yoke. ... "I see him dive ; 
there he comes up again, then he sinks a second time, 
and comes up again, and then he cries, ' I'm drowning, 
help ! ' And then he goes down again — and then a 
lot of bubbles. And while I am looking on, the mu- 
zhik gets drowned. And so 1 give the alarm : * Help ! 
a muzhik is drowning ! ' " 

And the laundress, lifting the yoke u[K>n her shoul- 

1 prikdskchik. 



164 LOST ON TflE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

der, turning jto one side, goes along the narrow foot- 
path away from the pond. 

'' See ! what a shame," says Yakof Ivdnof the over- 
seer, in a despairing voice ; " now there'll be a rumpus 
with the police court ^ — we'll have enough of it." 

One muzhik with a scythe makes his way through 
the throng of peasant women, children, and old men 
gathered round the shore, and, hanging the scythe on 
the limb of a willow, leisurely takes off his clothes. 

"Where was it? where was he drowned?" I keep 
asking, having still the desire to jump in, and do some- 
thing extraordinary. 

They point out to me the smooth surface of the 
pond, which is now and then just ruffled by the puffs 
of the breeze. It is incomprehensible how he came to 
drown ; for the w^ater lies so smooth, beautiful and 
calm above him, shining golden in the midday sun, 
and it seems to me that I could not do any thing or 
surprise any one, the more as I am a very poor swim- 
mer ; but the muzhik is now pulling his shirt over his 
head, and instantly throws himself into the water. 
All look at him with hope and anxiety. After going 
into the water up to his neck, the muzhik turns back, 
and puts on his shirt again : he knows not how to 
swim. 

People keep coming down to the shore ; the throng 
grows larger and larger ; the women cling to each 
other : but no one brings any help. Those who have 
just come, offer advice, and groan ; fear and despair are 
stamped on all faces. Of those who had come first, 
some have sat down, or stand wearily on the grass, 
others have gone back to their work. The old Matry6- 
na asks her daughter whether she shut the oven-door. 

1 aemski sut. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR,- THE SNOWSTORM. 165 

The small -boy in his father's jacket industriously flings 
stones into the water. 

And now from the house down the hill comes Tre- 
zorka, the butler's dog, barking, and looking at the 
stupid people. And lo ! there is Feodor's tall figure 
hurrying from the hill-top, and shouting something as 
he comes out from behind the rose-bushes. 

*' What are you standing there for?" he shouts, 
taking off his coat as he runs. "A man drowning, 
and there you are standing around ! Give us a rope." 

All look at Feodor with hope and fear while he, 
leaning his hand on the shoulder of one of the men- 
servants, pries ofif his left boot with the toe of the right. 

" There it was, where the people are standing, there 
at the right of the willows, Feodor Filippuitch, right 
there," says some one to him. 

"I know it," he replies; and knitting his brows, 
probably as a rebuke to the manifestations of modesty 
visible among the women, he takes off his shirt and 
baptismal cross, handing them to the gardener-boy who 
stands officiously near him, and then stepping energet- 
ically across the mown grass comes to the pond. 

Trezorka, unable to explain the reason for his mas- 
ter's rapid motions, stands irresolute near the crowd, 
and noisily eats a few grass-blades on the shore, then 
looks question ingly at his master, and suddenly with a 
joyous bark plunges after him into the water. At first 
nothing can be seen except foam, and splashing water, 
which reached even to us. But soon the butler, grace- 
fully spreading his arms in long strokes, and with 
regular motion lifting and sinking his back, swims 
across to the other shore. Trezorka, however, gurgling 
in the water, hastily returns, shakes himself near the 
crowd, and rolls over on his back upon the shore. 



166 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

While the butler is swimming to the other side, two 
coachmen hasten to the willows with a net fastened to 
a stake. The butler for some reason lifts up his 
hands, dives once, twice, three times, each time spew- 
ing from his mouth a stream of water, gracefully 
shaking his long hair, and paying no heed to the ques- 
tions which are showered upon him from all sides. At 
last he comes to the shore, and, so far as I can see, 
arranges for the disposition of the net. 

They haul out the net, but it contains nothing ex- 
cept slime and a few small carp flopping in it. They 
have just cast the net once more as I reach that side. 

The voice of the butler giving directions, the water 
dripping from the wet rope, and the sighs of dismay, 
alone break the silence. The wet rope stretches to 
the right wing, covers up more and more of the grass, 
slowly emerges farther and farther out of the water. 

'' Now pull all together, friends, once more ! " cries 
the butler's voice. The net appears, dripping with 
water. 

" There's something ! it comes heavy, fellows," says 
some one's voice. 

And here the wings with two or three carp flappipg 
in them, wetting and crushing down the grass, are 
drawn to shore. And through the delicate strata of 
the agitated depths of the waters, something white 
gleams in the tightly stretched net. Not loud, but 
plainly audible amid the dead silence, a sigh of horror 
passes over the throng .- 

" Pull it up on the dry land ! pull it up, friends ! " 
says the butler's resolute voice ; and the drowned man 
is pulled up across the mown burdocks and other 
weeds, to the shelter of the willows. 

And here 1 see my good old auntie in her silk dress. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 1 R7 

I see her lilac sunshade with its fringe, — which some- 
how is incongruous with this picture of death terrible in 
its very simplicity, — and her face ready this moment to 
be convulsed with sobs. I realize the disappointment 
expressed on her face, because it is impossible to use 
the arnica ; and I recall the sickening melancholy feel- 
ing that I have when she says with the simple egoism 
of love, "Come, my dear. Ah! how terrible this is! 
And here you always go in swimming by yourself.' ' 

I remember how bright and hot the sun shines on 
the dry ground, crumpling under the feet ; how it 
gleams on the mirror of the pond ; how the plump 
carp flap on the bank ; how the schools of fish stir 
the smooth surface in the middle of the pond ; how 
high in the air a hawk hangs, watching the ducklings 
which, quacking and spattering, swim through the 
reeds toward the centre ; how the white tumulous thun- 
der-clouds gather on the horizon ; how the mud, 
brought up by the net, is scattered over the bank ; and 
how, as I come to the dike, I again hear the blows 
of the clothes-pounders at work along the pond. 

But the clothes-pounder has a ringing sound ; two 
clothes-pounders, as it were, ring together, making a 
chord ; and this sound torments, pains me, the more 
as I know that this clothes-pounder is a bell, and 
Feodor Filippuitch does not cease to ring it. And 
this clothes-pounder, like an instrument of torture, 
squeezes my leg, which is freezing. — I fall into deep 
sleep. 

I was waked by what seemed to me our very rapid 
progress, and by two voices speaking close to me. 

" Say, Ignat, Ignat,*' says the voice of my driver. 
** You take my passenger; you've got to go anyway; 
it's only wasted labor for me : you take hiin.'* 



168 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

Ignat's voice near me replies, '* What fun would it 
be for me to answer for a passenger ? . . . Will you 
treat me to a half-pint of brandy ? ' ' 

'^ Now ! a half -pint ! Call it a glass." 

"The idea, a glass!" cries the other voice; 
*' bother my horses for a glass of vodka ! " 

I open my eyes. Still the same unendurable whirl- 
ing snowflakes dazzling me, the same drivers and 
horses, but next me I see some sledge or other. My 
driver has caught up with Ignat, and for some time 
we have been going side by side. 

Notwithstanding the fact that the voice from the 
other sledge advises not to take less than the half- 
pint, Ignat suddenly reins, up his troika. 

'' Change the things ; just your good luck ! You'll 
give me the brandy when we meet to-morrow. Have 
you got much luggage ? ' ' 

My driver, with unwonted liveliness, leaps into the 
snow, makes me a bow, and begs me to change into 
Ignat's sledge. I am perfectly wilUng. But evidently 
the pious little muzhik is so delighted that he must 
needs express to every one his gratefulness and pleas- 
ure. He bows to me, to Alyoshka, to Ignashka, and 
thanks us. 

" Well, now, thank the Lord ! What a scheme this 
is ! Heavens and earth ! ^ we have been going half 
the night. Don't know ourselves where we are. He 
will take you, sir ; ^ but my horses are all beat out.'* 

And he transfers the luggage with vigorous activity. 

When it was moved, I got into the other sledge in 
spite of the wind which almost carried me away. The 
sledge, especially on that side toward which was spread 
the coat as a protection against the wind, for the two 

^ gospodi-bdtiushka. * bdtiushka-bdrin. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE, OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 169 

yamshchiks, was quarter buried in the snow ; but behind 
the coat, it was warm and cosey. The little old man 
was lying with his legs hanging over, and the story- 
teller was still spinning his yarn : " At that very same 
time when the general in the king's name, you know, 
comes to Marya, you know, in the darkness, at this 
same time, Marya says to him, ' General, I do not 
need you, and 1 cannot love you ; and, you know, you 
are not my lover, but my lover is the prince himself ' 
— At this very time," he was going on to say; but, 
catching sight of me, he kept 'silence for a time, and 
began to puff at his pipe. 

''Well, bdrin, you missed the story, didn't you?" 
said the other, whom I have called the mentor, 

" Yes ; but you are finely provided for behind here,'* 
said I. 

"Out of sheer dulness, — have to keep ourselves 
from thinking." 

" But, say, don't you know where we are now? " 

This question, as it seemed to me, did not please 
the yamshchiks. 

" Who can tell where we are? Maybe we are going 
to the Kalmucks," replied the mentor. 

" But what are we going to do? " I asked. 

"What are we going to do? Well, we are going, 
and will keep on going," he said in a fretful tone. 

"Well, what will keep us from getting lost? 
Besides, the horses will get tired in the snow. What 
then?" 

"Well, nothing." 

" But we may freeze to death." 

" Of course we may, because we don't see any hay- 
ricks just now ; but we may come, you know, to the 
Kalmucks. First thing, we must look at the snow." s 



170 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

" But you aren't afraid of freezing to death, are 
you, b4rin ? ' ' asked the little old man with quavering 
voice. 

Notwithstanding that he was making sport of me, 
as it were, it was plain that he was trembling all over. 

" Yes : it is growing very cold,*' I replied. 

" Ekh ! bdrin ! You ought to do like me. No, no : 
stamp up and down, — that will warm you up.*' 

" Do it the first thing when you get to the sledge," 
said the mentor. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OB, THE SNOWSTORM. 171 



VII. 



*' If you please : all ready ! " shouted Alyoshka from 
the froDt sledge. 

The storm was so violent that only by violent exer- 
tion, leaning far forward and holding down the folds 
of my cloak with both hands, was I able to make my 
way through the whirling snow, drifting before the wind 
under my very feet, over the short distance between 
me and the sledge. M}^ former driver was still on his 
knees in the middle of the empty sledge ; but when he 
saw me going he took off his big cap, the wind angrily 
tossing up his hair, and asked me for a fee. Appar- 
ently he did not expect me to give it to him, because 
my refusal did not affront him in the least. He even 
thanked me, waved his cap, and said, " Well, good 
luck to you, sir!**^ and picking up the reins, and 
clucking to the horses, turned from us. 

Immediately Ignashka straightened his back, and 
shouted to his horses. Again the sound of crunching 
hoofs, voices, bells, took the place of the howling 
wind which was chiefl}^ audible when we stood still. 
For a quarter of an hour after my transfer I did not 
sleep, and I diverted my mind by contemplating the 
form of my new driver and horses. Ignashka was 
youthful in appearance, was constantly jumping up, 
cracking bis whip over the horses, shouting out, 
changing from one leg to the other, and leaning for- 

* Nu, dai Bog vain, bdrin. 



172 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

ward to fix the breeching for the shaft-horse, which 
was always slipping to one side. The man was not 
tall in stature, but well built as it seemed. Over his 
unlined sheepskin coat ^ he wore an ungirdled cloak, 
the collar of which was turned back, leaving his neck 
perfectly bare ; his boots were of leather, not felt ; 
and he wore a small cap which he constantly took off and 
straightened. In all his motions was manifest not 
only energy, but much more, as it seemed to me, the 
desire to keep his energy alive. Moreover, the farther 
we went, the more frequently he settled himself on his 
seat, changed the position of his legs, and addressed 
himself to Alyoshka and me : it seemed to me that he 
was afraid of losing his spirits. And there was good 
reason .- though the horses were excellent, the road at 
each step grew heavier and heavier, and it was notice- 
able that the horses' strength was flagging. It was 
already necessary to use the whip ; and the shaft-horse, 
a good big, shaggy animal, stumbled once or twice, 
though immediately, as if frightened, it sprang forward 
and tossed up its shaggy head almost to the bell itself. 
The right off-horse, which I could not help watching, 
had a long leather breeching adorned with tassels, 
slipping and sliding to the left, and kept dropping the 
traces, and required the whip ; but, being naturally a 
good and even zealous horse, seemed to be vexed at 
his own weakness, and angrily tossed his head, as if 
asking to be driven. Indeed, it was terrible to see how, 
as the storm and cold increased, the horses grew weak, 
the road became worse ; and we really did not know 
where we were, or where we were going, whether to a 
station or to any shelter whatsoever. And strange and 

1 polushuhka ; a garment of tanned sheepskin, the wool inwards, and 
reaching to the linees or even the ankles. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 173 

ridiculous it was to hear the bells jingling so merrily 
and carelessly, and Ignatka shouting so energetically 
and delightfully as though it were a sunny Christmas 
noon, and we were hurrying to a festival along the 
village street ; and stranger than all it was to think 
that we were always riding and riding rapidly away 
from the place where we had been. 

Ignat began to sing some song in a horrible falsetto, 
but so loud and with such stops, during which he 
whistled, that it was weird to listen to, and made one 
melancholy. 

" Hey-y-y ! Why are you splitting your throat, 
Ignat? Hold on a bit ! '* said the voice of the mentor. 

''What?*' 

'*Holdo-o-o-o-n!" 

Ignat reined up. Again silence only broken by 
the wailing and whistling of the wind, while the snow 
began to pile up, rustling on the sledge. The mentor 
drove up to us. 

*'Well, what is it?" 

*' Say ! ^ where are you going? '* 

*' Who knows?" 

" Are your feet frozen, that you stamp so? " 

''They're frozen oflf." 

"Well, you ought to go this way. The way you 
were going means starvation, — not even a Kalmuck 
there. Get out, and it will warm your legs." 

'' All right. Hold the horses — there." 

And Ignat stumped off in the direction indicated. 

" Have to keep looking all the time, have to get out 
and hunt; then you find the way. But this way's a 
crazy way to go," said the mentor. '' See how tired 
the horses are." 

* da chto t 



174 LOST ON THE STEPPE: OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

All the time that Ignat was gone, and it was so long 
that I actually began to be afraid that he had lost his 
way, the mentor kept talking to me in a self-confident, 
easy tone, telling me how it was necessary to behave 
in a snowstorm ; how much better it was to unhitch one 
of the horses, and let her go as God Almighty should 
direct ; how sometimes you can see the stars occasion- 
all}' ; and how, if he had taken the front place, we 
should have been at the station long before. 

" Well, how is it?" he asked, as Ignat came back, 
ploughing with difficulty knee-deep in snow. 

''Not so bad. I found a Kalmuck camp," replied 
the driver, out of breath. '' Still I don't know where 
we are. It must be that we have been going toward 
Prolgovsky forest. We must turn to the left." 

" Why worry? It must be the camp just behind our 
station," replied the mentor. 

''I tell you it isn't." 

" Well, I've seen it, and so I know. If it isn't that, 
then it's Tamuishevskoe. You must turn to the right ; 
and soon we'll be on the big bridge, — eight versts." 

" Say what you will, 'tain't so. I have seen it," 
said Ignat angril}^ 

"Eh! what's that? lam a yamshchik as much as 
you are." 

" Fine yamshchik ! you go ahead, then." 

'' Why should I go ahead? But I know." 

Ignat was evidently angry. Without replying, he 
climbed to his seat, and drove on. 

" You see how cold one's feet get. No way to 
warm them," said he to Alyoshka, pounding his feet 
more and more frequently, and brushing and shaking 
off the snow which had got into his boot-legs. 

I felt an uncontrollable desire to sleep. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 175 



VIII. 

" Can it be that I am going to freeze to death? " I 
asked myself, as I dropped off. "Death, they say, 
always begins with drowsiness. It's much better to 
drown than freeze to death, then they would pull me 
out of the net. However, it makes no difference 
whether one drowns or freezes to death. If only this 
stake did not stick into my back so, I might forget 
myself. ' ' 

For a second I lost consciousness. 

" How will all this end? " I suddenly ask myself in 
thought, for a moment opening my eyes, and gazing 
at the white expanse, — *' how will it end? If we 
don't find some hayricks, and the horses get winded, 
as it seems likely they will be very soon, we shall all 
freeze to death." 

I confess, that, though I was afraid, I had a desire 
for something extraordinarily tragic to happen to us ; 
and this was stronger than the small fear. It seemed 
to me that it would not be unpleasant if at morning 
the horses themselves should bring us, half-frozen, to 
some far-off, unknown village, where some of us might 
even perish of the cold. 

And while I have this thought, my imagination works 
with extraordinary clearness and rapidity. The horses 
become weary, the snow grows deeper and deeper, and 
now only the ears and the bell-bow are visible ; but 
suddenly Ignashka appears on horseback, driving his 



176 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

troika past us. We beseech him, we shout to him to 
take us : but the wind carries away our voices ; we 
have no voices left. Ignashka laughs at us, shouts to 
his horses, whistles, and passes out of our sight in 
some deep snow-covered ravine. A little old man 
climbs upon a horse, flaps his elbows, and tries to 
gallop after him ; but he cannot stir from the place. 
My old driver, with his great cap, throws himself upon 
him, drags him to the ground, and tramples him into 
the snow. "You're a wizard ! " he cries. "You're 
a spitfire. We are all lost on 3'our account." But 
the little old man flings a snowball at his head. He 
is no longer a little old man, but only a hare, and 
bounds away from us. All the dogs bound after him. 
The mentor, who is now the butler, tells us to sit 
around in a circle, that nothing will happen to us if we 
protect ourselves with snow : it will be warm. 

In fact, it is warm and cosey : our only trouble is 
thirst. I get out my travelling-case ; I offer every one 
rum and sugar, and drink myself with great satisfac- 
tion. The story-teller spins some yarn about the rain- 
bow, and over our heads is a roof of snow and a 
rainbow. 

"Now each of you," I say, "make a chamber in 
the snow, and go to sleep." The snow is soft and 
warm like wool. I make myself a room, and am just 
going into it ; but Feodor Filippuitch, who has caught 
a glimpse of my money in my travelling- case, says, 
" Hold ! give me your money, you won't need it when 
you're dead," and seizes me by the leg. I hand him 
the money, asking him only to let me go ; but they 
will not believe that it is all my money, and they are 
going to kill me. I seize the old man's hand, and with 
indescribable pleasure kiss it : the old man's hand is 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. Ill 

tender and soft. At first he takes it awaj' from me, 
but afterwards he lets me have it, and even caresses me 
with his other hand. Nevertheless, Feodor Filippuitch 
comes near and threatens me. I hasten to my cham- 
ber ; it is not a chamber, but a long white corridor, 
and some one pulls back on my leg. I tear myself 
away. In the hand of the man who holds me back, 
remain my trousers and a part of my skin ; but I feel 
only cold and ashamed, — all the more ashamed be- 
cause my auntie with her sunshade, and homoeopathic 
pellets, comes arm in arm with the drowned man to 
meet me. They smile, but do not understand the signs 
that I make to them. I fling myself after the sledge ; 
my feet glide over the snow, but the little old man fol- 
lows after me, flapping his elbows. He comes close to 
me. But I hear just in front of me two church-bells, 
and I know that I shall be safe when I reach them. 
The church-bells ring nearer and nearer ; but the little 
old man has caught up with me, and falls witli his 
body across my face, so that I can scarcely hear the 
bells. Once more I seize his hand, and begin to kiss 
it; but the little old man is no longer the little old 
man, but the drowned man, and he cries, — 

'' Ignashka, hold on ! here are Akhmet's hayricks! 
just look ! *' 

That is strange to hear ! no, I would rather wake up. 

I open my eyes. The wind is flapping the tails of 
Alyoshka's cloak into my face ; my knees are uncov- 
ered. We are going over the bare crust, and the triad 
of the bells rings pleasantly through the air with its 
dominant fifth. 

I look, expecting to see the hayricks ; but instead of 
hayricks, now that my eyes are wide open, I see some- 
thing like a house with a balcony, and the crenellated 



178 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

walls of a fortress. I feel very little interest in seeing 
this house and fortress ; my desire is much stronger 
to see the white corridor where I had been walking, to 
hear the sound of the church-bells, and to kiss the little 
old man's hand. Again I close my eyes and sleep. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 179 



IX. 



I SLEEP sound. But all the time I can hear the 
chords of the bells, and in my dream I can see a dog 
barking and jumping after me ; then the organ, one 
stop of which I seem to draw out; then the French 
poem which I am composing. Then it seems to me 
that this triad is some instrument of torture with which 
my right foot is constantly compressed. This was so 
severe that I woke up, and opening my ej'es I rubbed 
my leg. It was beginning to grow numb with cold. 

The night was, as before, light, melancholy, white. 
The sledge and its passengers were still shaken by 
the same motion ; there was Ignashka sitting on one 
side and stamping his feet. There was the off-horse 
as before, straining her neck, lifting her feet, as she 
trotted over the deep snow ; the tassel slipping along 
the reins, and whipping against the horse's belly ; the 
head of the shaft-horse, with the waving mane, alter- 
nately pulling and loosening the reins attached to the 
bell-bow as it nodded up and down. But all this was 
covered and hidden with snow far more than before. 
The snow was whirled about in front of us, and cov- 
ered up our runners, and reached above the horses' 
knees, and fell thick and fast on our collars and caps. 
The wind blew now from the right, now from the left, 
and played with the collar and tails of Ignashka's 
cloak, the mane of the horses, and howled above the 
bell-bow and the shafts. 



180 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

It had become fearfully cold ; and I had scarcely 
lifted my head out of my collar ere the frosty dry 
snow made its way, rustling, into my eyelids, nose, and 
mouth, and ran down my neck. Looking around, all 
was white, light, and snowy ; nothing anywhere except 
a melancholy light and the snow. I felt a sensation 
of real terror. Alyoshka was sitting cross-legged in 
the very depths of the sledge ; his whole back was 
covered with a thick deposit of snow. 

Ignashka still kept up his spirits ; he kept con- 
stantly pulling at the reins, stamping and pounding 
his feet. The bell also sounded strange. The horses 
sometimes snorted, but plunged along more quietly, 
though they stumbled more and more often. Ignashka 
again sprang up, swung his mittens, and began to sing 
in his clear, strong voice. Not ceasing to sing, he 
stopped the troika, tossed the reins on the dasher, and 
got out. The wind howled madly ; the snow, as though 
shovelled down, was dashed upon the folds of my fure. 

I looked around. The third troika was nowhere to 
be seen (it had stopped somewhere). Next the second 
troika, in a mist of snow, could be seen the httle old 
man making his wa}^ with long strides. Ignashka went 
three steps from the sledge, sat down in the snow, took 
off his girdle, and began to remove his boots. 

'' What are you going to do? " I asked. 

*'Must change my boots: this leg is frozen solid," 
he replied, and went on with his work. 

It was cold for me to keep my neck out of my collar 
to watch what he was doing. I sat straight, looking 
at the off-horse, which, with legs spread, stood feebly 
switching its snow-covered tail. The thump which 
Ignat gave the sledge as he clambered to his place 
startled me. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE, OR, THE SNOWSTORM, 181 

"Well, where are we now?" I asked. "Are we 
getting anywhere in the world ? ' ' 

" Don't you worry. We shall get there,'* he replied. 
" Now my feet are thoroughly warm, since I changed 
them." 

And he drove on ; the bells jingled, the sledge again 
began to rock, and the wind whistled under the runners, 
and once more we struggled to swim through the limit- 
less ocean of snow. 



182 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 



X. 



I SUNK into a sound sleep. When Alyoshka awoke me 
b}' punching me in the leg, and I opened my eyes, it 
was morning. It seemed even colder than it had been 
during the night. There was nothing to be seen but 
snow ; but a strong dry wind still swept the powdery 
snow across the field, and especially under the hoofs 
of the horses, and the runners of the sledge. The sky 
on the right toward the east was of a deep purple 
color, but the bright reddish-orange rays of the sun- 
rise kept growing more and more clearly defined in it ; 
above our heads, between the hurrying white clouds, 
scarcely tinged as yet, gleamed the sickly blue of the 
sky ; in the west the clouds were bright, light, and 
fluctuating. Everywhere around, as far as the eye 
could see, lay the snow, white and deep, in sharply de- 
fined strata. Everywhere could be seen gray hillocks 
where lay the fine, dry, powdery snow. Nothing was 
to be seen, — not even the shadow of a sledge, nor of 
a human being, nor of a beast. The outline and color 
of the driver's back, and of the horses, began to stand 
out clear and sharp against the white background. 
The rim of Ignashka's dark-blue cap, his collar, his 
hair, and even his boots, were white. The sledge 
was perfectly covered. The whole right side and the 
mane of the brown shaft-horse were plastered with 
snow. The legs of my off-horse were thick with it up 
to the kuee, and the whole of the shaggy right flank 



UNIVJ- • 

LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 183 

had the same sticky covering. The tassel leaped up 
and down in some sort of rhythm, the structure of 
which it would not be easy to represent ; and the off- 
horse also kept to it in her gait : only by the gaunt 
belly rising and sinking, and by the hanging ears, could 
it be seen how tired she was. 

Only one new object attracted the attention : this 
was a verst-post, from which the snow had been blown 
away, leaving it clear to the ground, and making a 
perfect mountain on one side ; while the wind was still 
sweeping it across, and drifting it from one side to the 
other. 

It was odd to me to think that we had gone the 
whole night without change of horses, not knowing for 
twelve hours where we were, and not coming to our 
destination, and yet not really missing the road. Our 
bells seemed to sound more cheerful than ever. Iguat 
buttoned his coat up, and began to shout again. 
Behind us snorted the horses, and jingled the bells, of 
the troika that carried the little old man and the men- 
tor ; but the one who was asleep had wandered away 
from us somewhere on the steppe. 

After going half a verst farther, we came upon the 
fresh, and as yet unobliterated, traces of a sledge and 
troika ; and occasionally drops of blood, caused by 
the whip on the horses' side, could be seen. 

" That was Filipp. See, he's got in ahead of us," 
said Ignashka. 

And here appears a little house with a sign, alone 
by itself, near the road, standing in the midst of the 
snow which covers it almost to the roof, ^^^ear the inn 
stands a troika of gray horses, their hair rough with 
sweat, with wide-spread legs and drooping heads. At 
the door, the snow is shovelled away, and the shovel 



184 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

is standing in it ) but it still falls from the roof, and 
the roaring wind whirls the snow around. 

Out from the door at the sound of our bells comes a 
big ruddy, red-headed driver, with a glass of wine in 
his hand, and shouts something. Ignashka turns to 
me, and asks permission to stop. Then for the first 
time I fairly see his face. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 185 



XI. 



His features were not dark, dry, and regular, as I 
had reason to expect from his hair and build. His 
face was round, jolly, with a snub nose and a big 
mouth, and clear-shining eyes, blue and round. His 
cheeks and neck were like well-worn cloth. His eye- 
brows, his long eyelashes, and the beard which evenly 
covered the lower part of his face, were crusted thick 
with snow, and perfectly white. 

The distance to the station was all of a half-verst, 
and we stopped. 

*' Only be quick about it," I said. 

''Just a minute," replied Ignashka, springing down 
from his seat, and going up to Filipp. 

" Let us have it, brother," said he, taking the glass 
in his right hand ; and throwing his mitten and whip 
down on the snow, tipping back his head, he drank 
down at a gulp the glass of vodka. 

The inn-keeper, who must have been a discharged 
Cossack, came, with a bottle in his hand, out of the 
door. 
. " Who have you got there? " he asked. 

The tall Vasili, a lean, blond muzhik with a goatee, 
and the fat mentor, with white eyebrows, and a thick 
white beard framing his ruddy face, came up and also 
drank a glass. The little old man joined the group 
of drinkers ; but no one offered him any thing, and 
he went off again to his horses, fastened behind. 



186 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

and began to stroke one of them on the back and 
side. 

The little old man was pretty much what I had im- 
agined him to be ; small, ugly, with wrinkled, strongly 
marked features, a thin little beard, a sharp nose, and 
worn yellow teeth. He wore a driver's cap, perfectly 
new; but his sheepskin jacket^ was old, soiled with 
oil, and torn on the shoulders and flaps, and did not 
cover his knees or his hempen trousers tucked into his 
huge felt boots. He himself was bent, and frowned 
all the time, and, with trembling lips and limbs, 
tramped around his sledge in his efforts to keep warm. 

"Well, Mitritch, you ought to have a drink; it 
would warm you up," said the mentor to him. 

Mitritch gave a start. He arranged the horses' 
harness, straightened the bell-bow, and then came 
to me. 

'•'• Say, bdrin," said he, taking his cap off from his 
white hair and bowing very low, " all night long we 
have been wandering together ; we have found the 
road. We would seem to deserve a bit of a drink. 
Isn't that so, sir, your eminence?^ just enough to get 
warmed," he added with an obsequious smile. 

I gave him a quarter-ruble. The inn-keeper brought 
out a glass of vodka, and handed it to the old man. 
He laid aside his mitten and whip, and took the glass 
in his small, dark hand, bony and somewhat bluish ; 
but strangely enough he could not control his thumb. 
Before he had lifted the glass to his lips, he dropped 
it in the snow, spilling the wine. 

All the drivers burst out laughing. 

" See, Mitritch-to is half-frozen like ; he can't hold 
his wine." 

» polushubchishka. ' bdtiuahka, vdshe sii/dtelatvo. 



LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 187 

But Mitritch was greatly vexed because he had 
spilt the wine. 

They brought him, however, another glass, and 
poured it into his mouth. He immediately became 
jolly, went into the inn, lighted his pipe, began to 
show his yellow worn teeth, and to scold at every 
word. After they had taken their last drinks, the 
drivers came back to their troikas, and we set off. 

The snow kept growing whiter and brighter, till 
it made one's eyes ache to look at it. The orange- 
colored reddish streaks stretched brighter and brighter, 
higher and higher, across the heavens ; now the red 
circle of the sun appeared on the horizon through the 
bluish clouds ; the blue sky came out in constantly 
increasing brilliancy and depth. On the road around 
the station the tracks were clear, distinct, and yellow ; 
in some places were cradle-holes. In the frosty, bra- 
cing atmosphere, there was a pleasant exhilaration and 
freshness. 

My troika glided along very swiftly. The head of 
the shaft-horse, and the neck with the mane tossing 
up to the bell-bow, constantly made the same quick, 
swinging motions under the hunting-bell, the tongue 
of which no longer struck, but scraped around the 
rim. The good side-horses, in friendly rivalry tug- 
ging at the frozen twisted traces, energetically galloped 
on, the tassels striking against their ribs and necks. 
Occasionally the off-horse would plunge into some 
drift, and kick up the snow, filling the eyes with the 
fine powder. Ignashka kept shouting in his gay 
tenor. The runners creaked over the dry, frosty snow. 
Behind us, with a loud festival sound, rang the two 
sledge-chimes ; and the voices of the drivers, made 
jolly by wine, could be heard. 



188 LOST ON THE STEPPE; OR, THE SNOWSTORM. 

I looked back : the gray shaggy side-horses arching 
their necks, regularly puffing out the breath, with 
their curved bits, galloped over the snow. Filipp was 
flourishing his whip and adjusting his cap. The little 
old man, with his legs hanging out, was reclining as 
before in the middle of his sledge. 

At the end of two minutes the sledge scraped against 
the boards of the well-cleared entrance of the station- 
house ; and Ignashka turned to me, his jolly face 
covered with snow, where his breath had turned to 
ice, and said, — 

" Here we are, bdrin ! ** 



POLIKUSHKA. 

A STORV. 



"As you may please to order, madame. But it 
would be too bad to send any of the Dutlofs. They 
are all, without exception, good boys ; but if you don't 
take one of the house-servants ^ you will have to send 
one of them without fail," said the overseer; ''and 
now all point to them. However, as you wish.'* 

And he placed his right hand on his left, holding 
them both over his stomach, tipped his head on one 
side, sucked in his thin lips, almost smacking them, 
turned away his eyes, and held his peace, with the 
evident intention of holding it long, and of listening 

* Most of the serfs in Russia were attached to the land, and could not be 
sold apart from it. Others, called dmromd, constituted the class of domes- 
tic servants, and plied various trades. Their owners gave them monthly 
rations or a small allowance for rations. Often they were allowed to go to 
the large cities on obrok, a sort of leave of absence, for which they paid their 
masters out of their earnings. The bavin or bdruin't/a — that is, the lord or 
lady of the estate — had the right to excuse any one from the conscription ; 
but unless a substitute were sent, a sum of money was required. Other 
things being equal, the draft was made first on families where there were 
three or more grown-up men besides the head of the house, the tro'iniki ; 
next, on the dminiki, families where there were two grown-up sons or 
nephews; and last of all, where there was only one. Families where several 
generations, and even with collateral branches, lived under one roof, were 
apt to be more prosperous than when the sons scattered, and took separate 
farms. 

189 



190 POLIKUSHKA. 

without reply to all the nonsense which the mistress 
might say to him in this regard. 

The overseer had formerly been one of the house- 
hold servants, and now, this autumn evening, he was 
holding conference with his mistress, and was standing 
before her, clean-shaven, in his long coat, the special 
dress of the overseer. The conference as the mistress 
understood it was to be devoted to reckoning the profits 
and losses of the past season, and in making arrange- 
ments for the one to come. As Y^gor Mikhailovitch 
the overseer understood it, the conference consisted of 
the rite of standing in a corner firmly on his two feet, 
set wide apart, with his face turned to the sofa, listen- 
ing to all the good lady's unending and aimless babble, 
and leading her by various expedients to the point 
of saying hastily and impatiently, " Very good, very 
good," to all his suggestions. 

The point at issue just at present was the conscrip- 
tion. Three soldiers had to be sent from Pokrovskoe. 
Two were unquestionably named by Providence itself, 
with a due regard for famil}", moral, and economical 
conditions. Concerning them there could be neither 
hesitation nor quarrel on the part of the Commune,^ 
or the lady of the manor, or the people in general. 

The third was harder to decide upon. The overseer 
wanted to avoid sending any of the three Dutlofs, and 
proposed Polikushka, a servant who had a family 
and a very bad reputation, having more than once been 
convicted of stealing corn, reins, and hay ; but the 
mistress, who had often caressed Polikushka's ragged 
children, and by means of evangelical teachings had 
improved his morals, did not wish to let him go. At 
the same time she had no ill-will against the Dutlofs, 

* mir. 



POLIKUSHKA. 191 

whom she did not know and had never seen. And so 
she could not come to any decision at all, and the 
overseer hadn't the courage to explain to her explicitly 
that if Polikushka did not go Dutlof would have to go. 

"Well, I don't wish to cause the Dutlofs any un- 
happiness," she said with feeling. 

" If you don't want them to go, then pay three hun- 
dred rubles for a substitute," was the reply that he 
should have made her ; but his diplomacy was not 
equal to such an emergency. 

And so Y^gor Mikhai'lovitch straightened himself up 
calmly, even leaned slightly on the door-post, and with 
a certain obsequiousness in his face watched how his 
mistress moved her lips, and how the shadow of the 
niching on her head-dress moved up and down on 
the wall under the picture. But he did not find it 
necessary to penetrate the meaning of her words. 
She spoke long and rapidly. His ears were moved by 
the convulsion of a yawn, but he adroitly changed it 
into a cough, which he hid with his hand, making a 
hypocritical noise. 

Not long ago I saw Lord Palmerston sitting with 
his hat on at the time when he was a member of the 
opposition, and destroyed the ministry, and, suddenly 
rising, replied in a three-hours' speech to all the points 
of his opponent. I saw that, and was not filled with 
amazement, because something not unlike it I had 
seen a thousand times in the dealings of Y^gor Mi- 
khai'lovitch with his mistress. Either because he was 
afraid of going to sleep, or because it seemed to him 
that she had already gone to great lengths, he shifted 
the weight of his body from his left leg to his right, 
and began with the sacramental introduction as he 
always began : — 



192 POLIKUSHKA. 

'^ As you please, my lady — only — only — the Com- 
mune is to meet at my office, and it must be decided. 
In the requisition it says that Pokrovskoe must send a 
recruit to the city. And out of all the serfs, they 
point to the Dutlofs, and to no one else. But the 
Commune doesn't care for your interests; it's all the 
same to them if we ruin the Dutlofs. . . . You see, 
I know how they have been struggling to get along. 
Since I have had charge, they have been in the 
depths of poverty. Now that the old man is just 
about to have his young nephew's help, we've got to 
ruin them. But I, you will please take notice, am 
working as much for your interest as my own. 'Tis 
too bad, my lady, that you should set your mind on it 
so. They are no kith or kin of mine, and I have had 
nothing from them." . . . 

'' Oh, I didn't think, Y^gor," interrupted the lady, 
and immediately she felt convinced that he had been 
bribed by the Dutlofs. 

'* And they've got the best farm in all Pokrovsko^ ; 
God-fearing, work-loving muzhiks. The old man has 
been an elder in the church^ for thirty years. He 
doesn't drink wine, nor use bad language, and he's a 
church-goer. [The overseer knew how to be plausi- 
ble.] And chief of all, I will tell you, he has only 
two sons, and the other one's a nephew. The Com- 
mune make the decree ; but, according to the existing 
rule, it would be necessary for a man with two to haye 
a special vote. Others who have had three sons have 
given them farms of their own, and come to wretched- 
ness ; but these people are acting right, and this is the 
way their virtue is rewarded." 

^ stdrosta tserkovnui, a small office, giving the man the privilege of sell- 
ing candles, etc. 



FOLIKUSHKA. 193 

The lady did not understand this at all, — did not 
understand what he meant by "special vote," and 
"virtue." She heard only sounds, and she looked at 
the nankeen buttons on the overseer's coat : the upper 
button he rarely fastened, so that it was on tight ; but 
the strain had come upon the middle one, and it hung 
by a thread, so that it would soon need to be sewed on 
again. But, as everybody knows, it is absolutely un- 
necessarj' in a business conversation for you to under- 
stand what is said, but it is necessary only to bear in 
mind what you yourself wish to say. And the lady 
acted on this principle. 

" Why aren't you willing to understand, Y^gor 
Mikhailovitch?" said she. " I am sure I don't wish 
any of the Dutlofs to go a^ a soldier. I should think, 
that, as well as you know me, you might feel assured 
that I would do every thing to help m}' people, and that 
I do not wish them to be unhappy. You know that I 
am ready to sacrifice every thing to avoid this wretched 
necessity, and keep both of the men from going. [I 
know not whether it came into the overseer's head, that 
the avoidance of the wretched necessity did not require 
the sacrifice of every thing, but merely three hundred 
rubles ; but this thought might have easily occurred to 
him.] One thing I assure 3'ou, and that is, we will not 
let Polikei go. When, after that affair of the clock, he 
confessed to me, and wept, and vowed that he would 
reform, I had a long talk with him ; and I saw that he 
was touched, and that he really repented. ["Well, 
she's in for it," thought Y^gor Mikhailovitch, and 
began to gaze at the jam which stood In a glass of water 
by her side. "Is it orange, or lemon? I think it 
must taste bitter," he said to himself.] Since that 
time seven months have passed, and he has not been 



194 POLIKUSIIKA. 

once drunk, and he has behaved admirably. His wife 
told me that he had become another man. And now, 
why do you wish me to punish him, when he has 
reformed? Yes; and wouldn't it be inhumane, to send 
a man who has five children, and no one to help him? 
No, you had better not speak about that, Y^gor.". . . 
And the lady took a sip from the glass. 

Y^gor Mikhailovitch watched the water disappearing 
down her throat, and consequently his answer was 
short and dry : — 

" Then you order one of the Dutlofs to be sent? '* 

The lady clasped her hands. 

" Why can't you understand me? Do I wish to 
make Dutlof unhappy? Have I any thing against 
him ? God is my witness how ready I am to do every 
thing for them. [She glanced at the picture in the 
corner, but remembered that it was not a holy pic- 
ture. " Well, it's all the same, that's not the point 
at all," she thought. Again it was strange that it did 
not occur to her to offer the three hundred rubles !] 
But what can I do about it? Do I know the ways and 
means? I have no way of knowing. Well, I depend 
upon you ; you know my wishes. Do what you can to 
satisfy everybody ; but have it legal. What's to be 
d'^ne ? They are not the only ones. Troublous times 
come to all. Only, Polik^i must not be sent. You 
must know that that would be terrible for me." 

She would have gone on speaking, — she was so 
excited, — but just then a chambermaid came into the 
room. 

" Is that you, Duniasha? " 

'* A muzhik is here, and asks for Yegor Mikhailu- 
itch ; they are waiting for him at the meeting," said 
Duniasha, and looked angrily cit Yegor Mikhailovitch. 



POLIKUSHKA. 195 

"What an overseer he is!" she said to herself, 
*' stirring up my mistress. Now she won't get to 
sleep till two o'clock again." 

"Now go, Y^gor," said the lady. "Do the best 
you can." 

" I obey. [He now said nothing at all about 
Dutlof.] But shall I send to the gardener for the 
money? " 

" Hasn't Petrushka got back from town." 

"Not yet.'* 

" But can't Nikolai go ? " 

" Papa has the lumbago," said Duniasha. 

"Won't you have me go to-morrow?" asked the 
overseer. 

"No, you are needed here, Yegor." The lady 
paused to consider. " How much money? " 

" Four hundred and sixty-two rubles." 

" Send Polik^i to me," said the lady, looking reso- 
lutely into Yegor's face. 

The overseer not opening his teeth stretched his lips 
into a sort of smile, but did not alter his expression. 

"Very well." 

" Send him to me." 

" Very well." And Yegor Mikhailovitch went to 
his office. 



196 POLIKUSIIKA. 



II. 



PoLiKEi, as a man of no consequence, and inclined 
to be disreputable, and moreover as being from an- 
other village, had no one to look out for his interests, 
neither the housekeeper nor the butler, neither the over- 
seer nor the housemaid. And his corner^ where he lived 
with his wife and five children, was as wretched as it 
could be. The corners had been arranged by the late 
lamented bdrin as follows : The hut was about twenty 
feet long, and built of stone ; in the middle stood 
the^reat Russian stove ; around it ran a coZ/idor, as the 
servants called it ; and in each corner a room was 
partitioned off by boards. Of course there was not 
much room, especially in Polikei's corner which was 
next the door. The nuptial couch, with quilted coun- 
terpane and chintz pillows ; a cradle with a baby in it ; 
a three-legged table which served for cooking, wash- 
ing, piling up all the household utensils, and as a 
work-table for Polikei, who was a horse-doctor ; tubs, 
clothes, hens, a calf, and the seven members of the 
household, — occupied the corner; and there would 
not have been room to move, had it not been that .the 
common stove offered its share of room (though even 
this was covered with things and human beings), and 
that it was possible to get out upon the door-steps. 
It was not always possible, if you stop to think : in 
October it begins to grow cold, and there was only one 
warm sheep-skin garment for the whole family. And 



POLIKUSHKA. 197 

SO the young children were obliged to get warm by 
running about, and the older ones by working and 
taking turns in climbing upon the big stove, where the 
temperature was as high as ninety degrees. It must 
have been terrible to live in such circumstances, but 
they did not find it so : they were able to get along. 

Akullna did the washing and mending for her hus- 
band and children ; she spun and wove and bleached 
her linen ; she cooked and baked at the common stove, 
and scolded and quarrelled with her neighbors. The 
monthh^ rations sufficed not only for the children, but 
also for the feed of the cow. The firewood was plen- 
tiful, also fodder for the cattle ; and hay from the 
stable fell to their share. They had an occasional 
bunch of vegetables. The cow would give them a calf ; 
then they had their hens. Polik^i had charge of the 
stable : he took care of the young colts, and bled 
horses and cattle ; he cleaned their hoofs, he tapped 
varicose veins, and made a salve of peculiar virtue, 
and this brought him in some money and provisions. 
Some of the oats belonging to the estate also made 
their way into his possession : in the village there 
was a man who regularly once a month, for two small 
measures, gave twenty pounds of mutton. 

It would have been easy for them to get along, had 
there not been moral suffering. But this suffering was 
severe for the whole family. Polikei had been from 
childhood in a stable, in another village. The groom 
who had charge of him was the worst thief in the 
neighborhood ; the Commune banished him to Siberia. 
Polikei soon began to follow this groom's example, 
and thus became from early youth accustomed to these 
little tricks^ so that afterward, when he would have 
be,en glad to break loose from the habit, he could not. 



198 rOLIKUSriKA. 

He was young and weak ; his father and mother 
were dead, and his education had been neglected. He 
liked to get drunk, but he did not like to see things 
lying round loose : whether it were ropes or saddle, 
lock or coupling-bolt, or any thing even more costly, 
no matter, it found its way into Polikei's possession. 
Everywhere were men who would take these things, 
and paj" for them in wine or money according to 
agreement. Money gained this way comes easy, the 
people say : no learning is needed, no hard work, 
nothing ; and if you try it once, you won't like other 
work. One thing is, however, not good in such labors : 
however cheaply and easily things are acquired in this 
way, and however pleasant life becomes, still there is 
danger that disaffected people may suddenly object to 
your profession, and cause you tears, and make your 
life unhappy. 

This was what happened in Polikei's case. He got 
married, and God gave him great happiness : his wife, 
the daughter of a herder, proved to be a healthy, 
bright, industrious woman. Their children came in 
quick succession. Polik^i had not entirely abandoned 
his trade, and all went well. Suddenly temptation 
came to him, and he fell ; and it was a mere trifle that 
caused his fall. He secreted a pair of leather reins 
that belonged to a muzhik. He was detected, thrashed, 
taken to the mistress, and afterwards watched. A 
second time, a third time, he fell. The people began 
to make complaints. The overseer threatened to send 
him to the army ; the lady of the house expostulated ; 
his wife wept, and began to pine away : in fact, every 
thing went entirely wrong. As a man, he was kindly, 
and not naturally bad, but weak ; he loved to drink, 
and he had such a strong taste for it, that he could 



POLIKUSFIKA. 199 

not resist. His wife would scold him and even beat 
him when he came in drunk, but he would weep. 
"Wretched man that I am," he would say, "what 
3hall I do? Tear out my eyes. I will swear off, I 
won't do it again." But lo ! in a month's time he 
goes out, gets drunk, and is not seen for two days. 

* ' Where on earth does he get the money to go on 
sprees?" the people asked themselves. His latest 
escapade was in the matter of the office-clock. In the 
office there was an old clock hanging on the wall. It 
had not gone for years. Polik^i got into the office 
alone when it happened to be. unlocked. He took a 
fancy to the clock, carried it off, and disposed of it in 
town. Not long afterward it happened that the shop- 
keeper, to whom he sold it, came out on some holiday 
to visit his daughter, who was married to one of the 
house-servants ; and he happened to mention the clock. 
An investigation was made, though it was hardly neces- 
sary. The overseer especially disliked Polik^i. The 
theft was traced to him. They laid the matter before 
the lady of the house. The lady of the house sum- 
moned Polik^i. He fell at her feet, and, with touch- 
ing contrition, confessed every thing as his wife had 
counselled him to do. He accomplished it admirably. 
The lady began to reason with him. She talked and 
she talked, she lectured and she lectured, about God 
and duty and the future life, and about his wife, and 
about his children ; and she affected him to tears. 
The lady said, — 

" I will forgive you, only promise me that j^ou will 
never do it again." 

" Never in the world. May the earth swallow me, 
may I be torn in pieces ! ' ' said Polikei ; and he wept 
in a touching manner. 



200 POLIKUSHKA. 

Polik^i went borne, and at home wept all day like 
a calf, and lay on the stove. From that time forth 
Polikei had conducted himself in a way above re- 
proach. But his life ceased to be happy. The people 
regarded him as a thief ; and now that the hour of 
conscription had come, all felt that it was a good way 
to get rid of him. 

Polikei was a horse-doctor, as we have already said. 
How he so suddenly developed into a horse-doctor, was 
a mystery to every one, and to himself most of all. 
In the stable where he had been with the groom who 
had been exiled to Siberia, he had fulfilled no other 
duty than that of clearing manure out of the stalls, or 
occasionally currying the horses, and carrying water. 
It was not there that he could have learned it. Then 
he became a weaver; then he worked in a garden, 
cleared paths ; then he got leave of absence, and 
became a porter ^ for a merchant. But he could not 
have got any practice there. But when he was last at 
home, somehow or other, little by little, his reputation 
began to spread for having an extraordinary, if not 
even supernatural, knowledge of the ailments of horses. 

He let blood two or three times ; then he tripped up 
a horse, and made an incision in its fetlock ; then he 
asked to have the horse brought to a stall, and began 
to cut her with a needle until the blood came, although 
she kicked, and even squealed : and he said that this 
was meant '' to let the blood out from under the hoof." 
Then he explained to a muzhik that it was necessary 
to bleed the veins in both frogs " for greater comfort," 
and he began to strike his wooden mallet upon the 
blunt lancet. Then under the side of the dvornik's 
horse he twisted a bandage made of a woman's ker- 

1 dvomik. 



POLIKUSHKA. 201 

chief. Finally he began to scatter oil of vitriol over the 
whole wound, wet it from a bottle, and to give occasion- 
ally something to take internally, as it occurred to him. 
And the more he tormented and killed the poor horses, 
the more people believed in him, and brought him their 
horses to cure. 

I think that it is pot quite seemly of us gentlemen 
to make sport of Polik^i. The remedies which he 
employed to stimulate belief in him were the very 
same which were efficacious for our fathers, and will 
be efficacious for us and our children. The muzhik, 
as he held down the head of his one mare, which not 
only constituted his wealth, but was almost a part 
of his family, and watched, with both confidence and 
terror, Polikei's face marked by a consequential frown, 
and his slender hands, with the sleeves rolled up, with 
which he managed always to pinch the very places that 
were most tender, and boldl}' to hack the living body 
with the secret thought, *' Now here's to luck," and 
making believe that he knew where the blood was, and 
where the matter, where was the dry and where was 
the fluid vein, and holding the handkerchief of healing 
or the phial of sulphuric acid, — this muzhik could not 
imagine such a thing as Polikei raising his hand to cut 
without the requisite knowledge. He himself could 
not have done such a thing. And, as soon as the 
ijjcision was made, he did not reproach himself because 
he had hacked unnecessarily. 

I don't know how \\ is with you ; but I have had 
experience with a doctor who, at my own request, 
treated people who were very dear to my heart in almost 
exactly the same way. The veterinary lancet and the 
mysterious white phial with corrosive sublimate, and 
the words, *' apoplexy^ hemorrhoids^ blood-letting^ pus^** 



202 POLIKUSHKA. 

and so forth, are they so different from '' nerves, 
rheumatism, organism,'' and the others? Wage du zu 
irren und zu trdumen, — "dare to be in error and to. 
dream," — was said not only to poets, but to doctors 
and veterinary surgeons. 



POLIKUSHKA. 203 



III. 



On that very evening, while the elders had come 
together at the office to settle upon a recruit, and while 
their voices were heard amid the chill darkness of the 
October night, Polik^i was sitting upon the edge of his 
bed at the table, and was triturating in a bottle some 
veterinary medicament, the nature of which he himself 
knew not. It was a mixture of corrosive sublimate, 
sulphur, Glauber's salts, and grass, which he was 
compounding, under some impression that this grass 
was good for broken wind and other ailments. 

The children were already abed ; two on the stove, 
two on the couch, one in the cradle, beside which sat 
Akulina with her spinning. The candle-end, which 
remained from some of his mistress's that had not 
been properly put away, and Polik^i had taken care of, 
stood in a wooden candlestick on the window ; and in 
order that her husband might not. be disturbed in his 
important task, Akulina got up to snuff the candle 
with her fingers. There were conceited fellows who 
considered Polik^i as a worthless horse-doctor, and a 
worthless man. Others — and they were in the major- 
ity — considered him worthless as a man, but a great 
master of his calling. Akulina, notwithstanding the 
fact that she often berated and even beat her husband, 
considered him bej^ond a peradventure the first horse- 
doctor and the first man in the world. 

Polik^i poured into the hollow of his hand some 



204 POLIKUSIIKA. 

spice. (He did not use scales, and he spoke ironi- 
call}^ of the Germans who used scales. '' This," he 
would say, "is not an apothecary-shop.") Polik^i 
hefted the spice in his hand, and shook it up ; but it 
seemed to him too little in quantity, and, for the tenth 
time, he added more. " I will put it all in, it will 
have a better effect," he said to himself. Akulina 
quickly looked up as she heard the voice of her lord 
and master, expecting orders ; but seeing that it was 
nothing that concerned her, she shrugged her shoulders. 
"Ho! great chemist! Where did he learn it all?" 
she thought to herself, and again took up her work. 
The paper from which the spice was taken fell under 
the table. Akulina did not let this pass. 

"Aniutka!"^ she cried, "here, your father has 
dropped something ; come and pick it up." 

Aniutka stuck out her slender bare legs from under 
the dress that covered her, and, like a kitten, crept 
under the table, and picked up the paper. 

"Here it is, papa," said she, and again plunged 
into the^bed with her cold feet. 

" Stop pushing me," whimpered her younger sister, 
in a sleepy voice, hissing her s's. 

" I'll give it to you," said Akulina, and both heads 
disappeared under the wrapper. 

"If he will pay three silver rubles," muttered 
Polik^i, shaking the bottle, " I will cure his horse. 
Cheap enough," he added. " I've racked my brains 
for it. Come now, Akulina, go and borrow some to- 
bacco of Nikita. We willpay it back to-morrow." 

And Polikei drew from his trousers a linden-wood 
pipe, that had once been painted, and that had sealing- 
wax for a mouthpiece, and began to put it in order. 

1 Peasant diminutive for Anna. 



POL IK USffl^^^i^^^^ALlfQ^^^ 

Aknlma pushed aside her flax-wheel, and went out 
without a word of reply, though it was a struggle for 
her. Polik^i opened the cupboard, put away his bot- 
tle, and applied to his mouth an empty jug. But the 
vodka was all gone. He scowled ; but when his wife 
brought him the tobacco, and he had lighted his pipe, 
and began to smoke, sitting on the couch, his face 
gleamed with complacency and the pride that a man 
feels when he has ended his day's work. 

He was even thinking how, on the morrow, he 
would seize the tongue of a horse, and pour into her 
mouth that marvellous mixture, or he was ruminating 
on the fact of how a man of importance met with no 
refusals, as was proved by Niklta sending him the 
tobacco ; and the thought was pleasant to him. Sud- 
denly the door, which swung upon one hinge, was 
flung open ; and into the room came a girl from the 
tipper house, — not the second girl, but a small 
damsel employed to run of errands. (Everybody calls 
the manor-house upper, even though it may be built 
on a lower level.) Aksiutka, as the damsel was called, 
always flew like lightning ; and on this account her 
arms were not folded, but swung like pendulums, in 
proportion to the swiftness of her motions, not by her 
side, but in front of her body. Her cheeks were always 
redder than her pink dress ; her tongue alwaj's Kin as 
swiftly as her legs. She flew into the room, and hold- 
ing by the stove, for some reason or other, she began 
to wave her arms ; and as though she wished to utter 
not less than two or three words at once, and scarcely 
stopping to get breath, she suddenly broke out as 
follows, addressing Akulina : — 

'' Our lady bids Polikei Ilyitch to come up to the 
house this minute, — she does. [Here she stopped, 



206 POUKUSUKA. 

and drew a long breath.] Yegor Mikhaltch was at the 
house, and talked with our lady about the necruits ; 
and they've took Polikei Ilyitch. . . . Avdot'ya Miko- 
lavna bids you come up this very minute. . . . Avdo- 
t'ya Mikoldvna bids you [again a long breath] come 
up this minute.'* 

For 'thirty seconds Aksiutka stared at Polikei, at 
Akulina, at the children, who were asleep under the 
wrapper ; then she seized a hazel-nut shell that was 
rolling around on the stove, and threw it at Auiutka, 
and once more repeating, " Come up this minute," flew 
like a whirlwind out of the room ; and the pendulums, 
with their wonted quickness, outstripped the course of 
her feet. 

Akulina got up again, and fetched her husband his 
boots. The boots were soiled and ripped: they had 
been made for a soldier. She took down from the 
stove a kaftan, and handed it to him without looking 
at him. 

^' Ilyitch, are you going to change your shirt? " 

"Nay," said Polikei. 

Akulina did not look into his face once while he 
silently put on his boots and coat, and she did well 
not to look at him. Polikei' s face was pale, his chin 
trembled, and in his eyes there came that expression 
of deep and submissive ^unhappiness, akin to tears, 
peculiar to weak and kindly men who have fallen, into 
sin. He brushed his hair, and was about to go. His 
wife kept him back, and arranged his shirt-band, which 
hung below his cloak, and straightened his cap. 

" Say, Polikei Ilyitch, what does the mistress want 
of you?" said the voice of the joiner's wife on the 
other side of the partition. 

The joiner's wife had, that very morning, been en- 



POLIKUSTIKA. 207 

gaged in a warm dispute with Akulina, in regard to a 
pot of 13'e which Polikei's children had spilt; and, at 
the first moment, she was glad to hear that Polikei was 
summoned to the mistress. It could not be for any 
thing good. Moreover, she was a sharp, shrewd, and 
shrewish woman. No one understood better than she 
how to use her tongue ; at least, so she herself thought. 

" It must be that they are going to send you to the 
city to be a merchant," she continued. " I suppose 
they want to get a trusty man, and so will send you. 
You must sell me then some tea for a quarter, Polekei 
Ilyitch." 

Akulina restrained her tears, and her lips took on 
an expression of bitter anger, as though she would 
have wound her fingers in the untidy hair of that slat- 
tern, the joiner's wife ; but when she glanced at her 
children, and thought that they might be left orphans, 
and she a soldier's widow, she forgot the shrewish 
joiner's wife, covered her face with her hands, sat 
down on the bed, and leaned her head on the pillow. 

*' Mdmuska, you are squeesing me," cried the little 
girl who hissed her s's, and she pulled away her dress 
from under her mother's elbow. 

'' I wish you were all of you dead ! You were born 
for misfortune," cried Akulina ; and she began to walk 
up and down the corner^ wailing, much to the delight 
of the joiner's wife, who had not yet forgotten about 
the lye. 



208 POLIKUSHKA. 



IV. 



A HALF-HOUR passed by. The baby began to cry. 
Akuliua took him, and gave him the breast. She was 
no longer weeping ; but resting her thin, tear-stained 
face on her hand, she fixed her eyes on the flickering 
candle, and asked herself why she had got married, 
and why so many soldiers were needed, and, still more, 
how she might pay back the joiner's wife. 

Her husband's steps were heard ; she wiped away 
the traces of the tears, and got up to light his way. 
Polikei came in with an air of triumph, threw his hat 
on the bed, drew a long breath, and began to take off 
his clothes. 

'' Well, what was it? why did she call you? " 

" Hm ! a good reason! Polikushka is the lowest 
of men ; but, when there is something needed, who is 
called on ? Polikushka ! " 

''What is it?" 

Polikei did not make haste to reply: he smoked 
his pipe, and kept spitting. 

" She wants me to go to the merchant, and get her 
money." 

" Get her money ! " repeated Akulina. 

Polikei grinned and nodded. 

" How well she knows how to talk ! ' You had,' 
says she, ' the reputation of being untrustworthy, but I 
have more faith in you than in any one else. [Polikei 
raised his voice so that his neighbors might hear.] 



POLIKUSHKA. 209 

'You promised me to reform,' says she, ' and here is 
the first proof that I believe in you : go,* says-she, ' to 
the merchant, get some money for me, and bring it 
back.' And says I, ' My lady,' says I, ' we be all 
your slaves, and it be our duty to serve you as faith- 
full}^ as we serve God, and so I feel that I can do 
every thing for your well-being, because I owe it to 
you, and I could not refuse no service; so, whatever 
you order, that I will perform, because I be your slave.' 
[He again smiled with that peculiar smile of a man 
who is weak, but good-natured, and has been guilty of 
some sin.] 'And so,' says she, 'will you do this 
faithfully? Do you understand,' says she, ' that your 
fate depends upon this? ' — ' How can I help compre- 
hending that T can do it? People may slander me, and 
any one may fall mto sin ; but it would be a moral 
impossibility for me do any thing contrary to your 
interest, nor even think of it.' So, you see, I talked 
to her till my lady was just as soft as wax. ' You will 
be,' says she, ' my principal man.' [He was quiet for 
a moment, and again the same smUe played over his 
face.] I know very well how to talk with her. When 
I used to go on leave of absence, I got practice in 
talking. Only let me talk with 'em, I make 'em just 
like silk." 

" Much money? " asked Akulina. 

" Fifteen hundred rubles," replied Polikei carelessly. 

She shook her head. 

" When do you go? " 

"To-morrow, she said. ' Take a horse,' says she, 
' any one you wish, come to the office, ^nd God be 
with you.' " 

" Glory to thee, O Lord ! " exclaimed Akulina, get- 
ting up and crossing herself. "God be thy help, 



210 POLIKUSHKA. 

Ilyitch,'* she added in a whisper, so as not to be heard 
beyond the partition, and holding him by the sleeve 
of his shirt. '^ Ilyitch, heed what I say; I will pray 
Christ the Lord, that you go in safety. Kiss the 
cross, that 3'ou will not take a drop into your mouth." 

'' But of course I am not going to drink, when I 
have all that money with me ! " he said with a snort. 
'' Some one was playing there on the piano, — hand- 
somely, my ! *' he added, after a silence breaking into 
a laugh. " It must have been the young lady. I was 
standing right before her, near the sliiffonere — that 
is, before her ladyship ; but the young lady was there 
behind the door, pounding away. She bangs and she 
bangs so harmoniously — like — She just makes it 
sing, I tell you ! I should like to play a little, that's 
a fact. I'd have liked to gone in just for once. I 
am just right for such things. To-morrow give me a 
clean shirt." 

And they went to bed happy. 



POLIKUSHKA. 211 



Meantime the office was buzzing with the voices of 
the muzhiks. It was no laughing matter. Ahinost all 
the muzhiks were in the meeting ; and while Y^gor 
Mikh^ilovitch was conferring with her ladyship, the 
men put on their hats, more voices began to be heard 
above the general conversation, and the voices became 
louder. 

The murmur of many voices, occasionally inter- 
rupted by some eager, heated discourse, filled the air ; 
and this murmur, like the sound of the roaring sea, 
came to the ears of the lady of the house, who felt at 
hearing it a nervous unrest analogous to the feeling 
excited by a heavy thunder-shower. It was neither 
terrible nor yet unpleasant to her. It seemed to her 
that the voices kept growing louder and more turbu- 
lent, and then some one person would make himself 
heard. "Why should it be impossible to do<f every 
thing gently, peaceably, without quarrel, without 
noise?" she said, *' according to the sweet law of 
Christianity and brotherly love? " 

Many voices suddenly were heard together, but 
louder than all shouted Feodor R^zun, the carpenter. 
He was a man who had two grown sons, and he attacked 
the Dutlofs. The old man Dutlof spoke in his own 
defence ; he came out in front of the crowd, behind 
which he had been standing, and spreading his arms 
wide and lifting up his beard spoke so rapidly, in a 



212 POLIKUSHKA. 

choked voice, that it would have been hard for him- 
self to know what he was saying. His children and 
nephews, fine young fellows, stood and pressed behind 
him ; and the old man Dutlof reminded one of the one 
who is the old lien in the game of Korslmn^^ or 
"Hawk." Rezun was the hawk; and not R^zun 
alone, but all those who had two sons, and all the bach- 
elors, almost all the meeting, in fact, united against 
Dutlof. The trouble lay in this : Dutlof s brother 
had been sent as a soldier thirty years before ; and 
therefore he did not wish to be considered as one of 
those who had three men in the family, but he desired 
his brother's service to be taken into account, and 
that he should be reckoned as one who had two grown 
assistants, and that the third recruit should be taken 
from that set. 

There were four families, besides Dutlof's, that had 
three able-bodied men. But one was the village elder's, 
and his mistress had freed him from service. From 
another family, a recruit had been taken at the last 
conscription. From the other two families, two men had 
been alread}' nominated, and one of them had not come 
to the meeting ; but his wife stood, heavy at heart, in 
the very rear, anxiously hoping that somehow the wheel 
would turn in favor of her happiness. The other of 
the two nominees, the red-haired Roman, in a torn 
cloak (though he was not poor) , stood leaning against 
the door-step, with downcast head ; he said nothing 
all the while, but occasionally looked up attentively 
when any one spoke louder than usual, and then 
dropped his head again ; and thus his unhappiness was 
expressed in his whole appearance. The old man, 
Sem'yon Dutlof, would have given the impression, even 

* A game Bomewhal like '* snap the whip." 



POLIKUSHKA. 213 

to these who knew him slightly, that he had laid up 
hundreds and thousands of rubles. He was dignified, 
God-fearing, substantial ; he was, moreover, an elder 
of the Church. So much the more striking was the 
chance in which he found himself. 

Rezun the carpenter was, on the contrary, a tall, 
dark, dissipated man, quick to quarrel, and fond of 
speaking in meetings and in the market-place, with 
workmen, merchants, muzhiks, or gentlemen. Now he 
was calm and sarcastic, and with all the advantage of 
his stature, all the force of his loud voice, and his ora- 
torical talent, was nagging the elder of the church, who 
was such a slip-shod speaker, and had been driven far 
out of his path. 

The others who took part in the discussion were as 
follows : The round-faced, young-looking Garaska Kop- 
ilof, stocky, with a four-square head, and curly beard ; 
one of the speakers who imitated R^zun rather than 
the younger generation, always distinguished for his 
bitter speech, and already a man of weight in the meet- 
ing. Then F^odor Melnitchnui, a tall, yellow, gaunt, 
round-shouldered muzhik, also young, with thin hair 
and beard, and with small eyes ; always prone to anger, 
sour- tempered, ready to see every one's bad side, and 
frequently embarrassing the meeting with his abrupt 
and unexpected questions and remarks. Both of these 
speakers were on R(§zun's side. Moreover, two chat- 
terers occasionally took part, — one who had a good- 
natured phiz, and a large and bushy red beard ; his 
name was Khrapkof, and he was forever saying, " My 
dearly beloved friend : ' ' and the other, Zhidkof , a 
small man, with a bird-like face, who was also in the 
habit of saying, *' It follows, my brethren ; " he kept 
turning to all sides, and his words were without rhyme 



214 POLTKUSHKA. 

or reason. One of these two took one side, the other 
the other ; but no one heeded what they said. There 
were others like them ; but these two kept moving in 
and out in the crowd, shouted more than anybody else, 
disturbing the mistress, were listened to less than any- 
body else, and, being confused by the racket and 
shouting, found full satisfaction in talking nonsense. 

There were many different characters in this group 
of peasants : some were morose, some courteous, some 
indifferent, some disputatious ; there were also a few 
women behind the muzhiks, with sticks. But about 
all these I will tell some other time, as God shall give. 
The throng consisted, for the most part, however, of 
muzhiks, who behaved during the meeting as though 
it were church, and standing in the rear talked in a 
whisper about their domestic affairs, exchanging views, 
for instance, about the best time for beginning to cut 
their wood, or quietly hoped that they soon adjourn the 
meeting. And then there were some well-to-do men, 
whose comfort the meeting could not benefit or curtail. 
To this number belonged Yermil, with his broad, shiny 
face, whom the muzhiks called " big -belly " because he 
was rich. To this number also belonged Starostin, on 
whose face a self-satisfied expression of power was 
habitual : " Say whatever you please among yourselves, 
but I am safe enough. I have four sons, but you 
won't take any of them." Occasionally, the opinion- 
ated young orators, like Kopilof or R^zun, would have 
a fling at them ; and they would reply, but calmly and 
decidedly in the consciousness of their unassailable 
position. 

However much Dutlof was like the old hen in the 
game of " Hawk," it could not be said that his lads 
were like the chickens. They did not hop about nor 



POLIKUSUKA. 215 

scream, but stood calmly behind him. The oldest, 
Ignat, was now thirty years old ; the second, Vasili, 
was already married, but was not old enough to come 
under the conscription ; the third, Ilyushka, the nephew 
who had just been married, had a red and white com- 
plexion, and was dressed^ in an elegant sheepskin 
coat (he was a driver^ by profession) ; he stood gaz- 
ing at the people, occasionally scratching the back of 
his head under the cap, as though the affair did not 
concern him at all any more than if it were the game 
of "Hawk." 

" Because my grandfather went as a soldier," Rezun 
was saying, " that's no reason why I should refuse 
the lot. Friends, it is no kind of a law at all. At the 
last conscription they took Mikheichef , and his uncle is 
still in the service." 

" Neither your father nor 3^our uncle ever served 
the Tsar both at once," said Dutlof, " and you never 
served gentlemen nor the Commune ; but you've always 
been a tippler, and jour children take after you. It's 
impossible to live with you, and yet you point out 
other men. But for ten years I have been police- 
commissioner,^ and I have been elder, and twice I have 
been burnt out, and no one ever helped me ; and is it 
because we live peaceably at our place, ay and honor- 
ably, that I am to be ruined? Give me back my 
brother. He died there, didn't he? Judge right, 
judge according to God's law, O orthodox Commune ! 
and do not listen to the lies of that drunkard." 

At this instant Gerdsim said to Dutlof, — 

" You refer to your brother. But he was not sent 
by the Commune, but the master sent him because of 
his good-for-nothing-ness ; so he's no excuse for you." 

» yamshcldk. '^ aotsky, ceuturiou; uu ollicer choseu by the Commuue. 



216 POLIKUSHKA. 

Gerdsim had no chance to say another word, for the 
tall, yellow Feodor Meluitchnui leaning forward began 
to speak in a gloomy tone : — 

" Well, masters send whomever they please ; then 
let the Commune make the best of it. The Commune 
tells your son to go ; and if you don't like it, ask the 
mistress : she has the right to command me or any of 
my children to wear the uniform. A fine law ! " said 
he bitterly ; and, again waving his hand, took his 
former place. 

The red-haired Romdn, whose son had been drafted, 
lifted his head, and said, "That's so, that's so," and 
sat down morosely on the step. 

But there were many other voices that also joined 
suddenly in the hubbub. Besides those who stood in 
the background and talked about their affairs, there 
were the babblers, who did not forget their duty. 

'* Certainly, O orthodox Commune," said the little 
Zhidkof, slightly varying Dutlof's words, "it is neces- 
sary to decide according to Christianity ; according 
to Christianity, my brethren, it is necessary to de- 
cide." 

"It is necessary to decide on our consciences, my 
dearly beloved friend," said the good-natured Khrap- 
kof , slightly varying Kopilof's words, and taking hold 
of Dutlof's sheepskin coat; "it is according to the 
will of our lady, and not the decision of the Com- 
mune." 

" Indeed, how is that? " exclaimed several. 

"What's that drunken fellow barking about?" re- 
torted R^zun. " Did you get me drunk, or was it 
your son whom they have found rolling round in the 
road, and does he dare to fling at me about drink ? I 
tell you, brethren, we must act more wisely. If you 



POLTKUSTIKA. 217 

want to let Dutlof off, though he is not of those who 
have two grown men, then name some one who has 
only one son ; but he will laugh at us." 

"^ Let Dutlof go. What's to be said ? " 

*'0f course. We must cast lots for the men of 
large family^ first," said several voices. 

** Just as the mistress commands. Yegor Mikhd- 
iluitch said she wanted to send one of the household 
servants," said some one's voice. 

This observation raised a great hubbub ; but it 
quickly subsided, and single individuals again got the 
floor. 

Ignat, who, according to R(5zun's remark, had been 
found drunk in the street, began to accuse R^zun of 
having stolen a saw of some passing carpenter, and 
of having beaten his wife almost to death during a 
drunken spree. 

R6zun replied that he beat his wife when he was 
sober as well as when he was drunk, and very little 
anj^way ; and this made every one laugh. Referring 
to the saw he suddenly lost his temper, and pressing 
nearer to Ignat began to question him : — 

'•'• Who was it stole the saw? " 

*' You did," replied the strong Ignat, boldly advan- 
cing still nearer to him. 

'^ Who stole it? Wasn't it yourself? " 

" No, 3'ou ! " screamed Ignat. 

After the saw, they disputed about the stealing of 
a horse, then of some bags of oats, then of some vege- 
tables from the fields, then of some dead body. And 
such strange things both muzhiks said of each other, 
that if the hundredth part of their mutual charges 
had been true, it would have been incumbent on the 

1 tro'inlki: a peasant family with three able-bodied men. 



218 POLIKUSHKA. 

authorities according to law to send both of them 
instanter to Siberia at the least. 

Dutlof meantime sought another kind of protection. 
His son's outburst had not been pleasing to him ; in 
order to restrain him he said, '' It's a sin ! it's no use, 
I tell you." And he himself went to work to show 
that the men whose sons lived under the same roof 
with their fathers were no more to be put in the cate- 
gory of those liable to the subscription than those 
whose sons lived on separate farms : and he referred 
to Starostin. 

Starostin smiled slightly, gave a snort, and, stroking 
his beard after the manner of the well-to-do muzhik, 
he replied that it was as it seemed fit to her ladyship ; 
his son would go, of course, if she ordered him to go. 

As regarded divided families, Gerdsim also demol- 
ished Dutlof's arguments, remarking that it was far 
better not to allow families to live apart, as it had 
been in the time of the old barin ; that " at the end 
of summer it isn't the time to get strawberries" (that 
is, it was too late to talk about it) ; that now it wasn't 
the time to send those who were the sole protection 
of their families. 

'' Do we set up separate establishments just for the 
fun of it? Why shouldn't we get some advantage 
for it? " asked some of those who had left their fathers' 
houses ; and the babblers took the same side. 

'' Well, hire a substitute if 3'ou don't like it. You 
can afford it," said Rezun to Dutlof. 

Dutlof in despair buttoned up his kaftan, and turned 
to the other muzhiks. 

'' You seem to know a good deal about my affairs," 
he replied viciously. "Here comes Y^gor with word 
from the mistress." 



POLIKUSHKA. 219 



VI. 



In fact, Yegor Mikhailovitch at this moment came 
out of the house. The peasants one after another re- 
moved their hats, and, as the overseer advanced, there 
were exposed one after another heads in various stages 
of baldness, and shocks of white, graj^ black, red, or 
blond hair ; and little by little, little by little, the 
voices were hushed, and finally there was perfect 
silence. The overseer stood on the step, and made it 
evident that he had something to say. 

Y6gor Mikhailovitch, in his long frock coat, with his 
hands negligently thrust into his pockets, with his 
factory-made uniform cap pushed well forward, and 
standing firmly, with his legs set wide apart, on a 
height looking down upon all these faces lifted and 
turned to him, faces for the most part dignified with 
age, and for the most part handsome and full-bearded, 
had an entirely diff'erent mien from that which he wore 
in presence of his mistress. He was majestic. 

''Well, boys, here's the mistress's message: she is 
not willing to let any of the household servants go, and 
whoever among you you may see fit to send will have to 
go. This time three are required. At present accounts 
the matter is five-sixths settled ; now there's only half 
a choice left. But it makes no difference : put it off 
till another time if you don't want to decide to-day." 

" Now's the time ! let's have it settled," cried several 
voices. 



220 POLIKUSnKA. 

"In my opinion," continued Y^or Mikhailovitch, 
"if Khoriushkin and Mitiukhin's Yaska go, it will be 
in accordance with the will of God." 

"That's a fact, true enough," cried a number of 
voices. 

" For the third we shall have to send either Dutlof, 
or from one of the families where there are two grown 
sons." 

" Dutlof, Dutlof," echoed the voices. " Dutlof has 
three." 

And again, little by little, little by little, the din be- 
gan, and again recriminations flew about in regard to 
vegetables taken from the fields, and things stolen 
from the manor-house. Y^gor Mikhailovitch had been 
manager of the estate now for twenty years, and was a 
man of sense and experience. He stood in silence for 
fifteen minutes and listened ; then he suddenly com- 
manded all to be silent, and bade Dutlof cast lots as to 
which of his family should go. They cast the lots into 
a cap, and when it had been well shaken Khrapkof drew 
from it. The lot fell to Ilyushkin. All were silent. 

" So it's mine, is it? Let me see," said the nephew 
in a broken voice. 

All looked on in silence. Y^gor Mikhailovitch com- 
manded to bring on the next day the conscription 
money, seven kopeks for each peasant farm, and, ex- 
plaining that all the business was now at an end, ad- 
journed the meeting. The crowd moved away, put'ting 
on their caps, as they went around the house with a 
noise of voices and shuffling steps. The overseer stood 
on the doorstep, gazing after the departing people. 
When the young Dutlofs had gone out of sight, he 
called the old man who had remained behmd, and the 
two went into the office. 



POLIKUSHKA. 221 

*'I am sorry for you, old man," said the overseer, 
sitting down in an arm-chair by the table. " It was 
your turn though. Will you hire a substitute for your 
nephew, or not? " 

The old man without replying looked earnestl}' at 
the overseer. 

"You won't let him go?" queried the overseer in 
repl}^ to his look. 

''We'd gladly buy him off, but haven't any thing, 
Yegor Mikhailovitch. Lost two horses this summer. 
I have just got my nephew married. You see, it's our 
luck, just because we've lived decently. Fine for him 
to talk as he did." (The old man referred to R6zun.) 

The overseer rubbed his face with his hand, and 
yawned. It was getting tiresome to him, and besides 
it was tea-time. 

*' Well, old man, don't be blue," said he ; " but just 
dig in your cellar, and perhaps you can find enough to 
make up four hundred silver rubles. I will hire you a 
substitute. A few days ago a man offered himself." 

''What! in the government 9 ''■ m^k^di Dutlof, mean- 
ing by " government " the chief city. 

" Well, will you hire him? " 

" I'd be glad to, but, before God, I " — 

The overseer looked at him sternly. 

"Now, you just listen to me, old man: don't let 
Hyushka do any harm to himself ; when I send to-night 
or to-morrow, have him come immediately. You bring 
him, and you shall be answerable for him ; and if any 
thing happens to him, God be my witness, I will take 
your oldest son. Do you hear? " 

" But couldn't they have taken some one else, Y^gor 
Mikhailuitch? " he said in an aggrieved tone after a 
short silence ; " because my brother died in the army, 



222 POLIKUSHKA. 

must they take his son also? Wh}^ should such luck 
come to me?" he added, almost weeping, and ready 
to get on his knees. 

"Now, hold on, hold on!" said the overseer. 
*' There's no need of any trouble ; it's my orders. 
You look out for your nephew; you're responsible for 
him." 

Dutlof went home, carefully helping himself with his 
cane over the irregularities of the road. 



FOLIKUSHKA, 223 



VII. 

On the next day, early in the morning, there was 
drawn up before the door of the wing a travelling car- 
riage (the one which the overseer generally used) , with 
a wide-tailed brown gelding called, for some inscruta- 
ble reason, Barabdn, or tlie drum. At a safe distance 
from his head stood Aniutka, Polik6i's oldest daughter, 
barefoot, in spite of the rain and sleet, and the cold 
wind, holding the bridle in one hand with evident ter- 
ror, and protecting her own head with a yellow-green 
jacket, which fulfilled in the family the manifold func- 
tions of dress, sheepskin, head-dress, carpet, overcoat 
for Polik^'i, and many other uses besides. 

In the corner a tumult was let loose. It was still 
dark. The morning light, ushering in a rainy day, fell 
through the window, the broken panes of which were 
in places mended with pieces of paper. 

Akulina, who was up betimes to get ready for break- 
fast, and her children, the 3'ounger of whom were not 
yet up, were shivenng with cold, as their covering had 
been taken from them for Aniutka's use, and they had 
only their mother's kerchief for protection. Akulina 
was busily engaged in getting her husband started on 
his journc}'. Ilis shirt was clean. His boots, which, 
as they say, were asking for gruel, caused her the 
greatest labor. In the first place, she took off her own 
long woollen stockings, and gave them to her spouse ; 
next, out of the saddle-cloth which had been lying 



224 FOLIKUSHKA. 

round in the stable, and Ilyitch had brought into the 
hut a few days before, she managed to make some 
insoles and lining, so as to stop up the holes, and pro- 
tect Ilyitch's feet from the dampness. Ilyitch himself, 
sitting with his feet on the bed, was busy in turning 
his belt so that it might not have the appearance of a 
dirty rope. The cross little girl who hissed her s's, 
wearing a sheepskin, which not only covered her head, 
but protected her legs, had been sent to Nikita to 
borrow a cap. 

The hubbub was increased b}' the household servants, 
who came to ask Ilyitch to do errands for them in the 
city : to buy a needle for one woman, tea for another, 
olive-oil for another; tobacco for this muzhik, and 
sugar for the joiner's wife, who had already made 
haste to set up her samovar, and in order to bribe 
Ilyitch had asked him to share in the concoction which 
she called tea. 

Although Nikita refused to loan his cap, and he was 
obliged to put his own in order, that is to say, to fasten 
on the shreds of wool that were falling off or hanging 
by a thread, and to sew up the holes with his veterin- 
ary needle ; though he could not get on his boots with 
the felt insoles made out of the saddle-cloth ; though 
Aniutka had got so chilled that she let Barabdn go, and 
Mashka, in her sheepskin, went in her place ; and then 
Mashka was obliged to give her father the sheepskin, 
and Akulina herself went to hold BarabAn, — still at 
last Ilyitch managed to get dressed, making use of all 
the clothing that appertained to his famil}^, and leaving 
only the one jacket and some dirty rags, and, now in 
spick and span order, took his seat in the tel3'^ga, bun- 
dled himself up, arranged the hay, once more bundled 
himself up, picked up the reins, bundled himself up 



POLIKUSEKA. 225 

still more warml}^, just as is done by very dignified 
people, and drove off. 

His small boy Mishka rushing down the steps asked 
to be taken on. The sibilating Mashka began to ask 
for "a Zide," and would be " warm enough, even if 
she hadn't any seepskin ; " ^ and Polik(^i reined in the 
horse, smiled his ineffectual smile, and Akullna helped 
the children to get in, and, bending close, whispered to 
him to remember his promise, and not drink any thing 
on the road. Polikei carried the children as far as the 
blacksmith-shop, helped them out, again tucked him- 
self in, again settled his cap, and drove off alone in a 
slow, dignified trot, his fat cheeks shaking, and his 
feet thumping on the floor of the wagon. 

Mashka and Mishka, both barefooted, flew home 
down the little hill with such fleetness, and with such 
a noise, that a dog running from the village to the 
manor gazed after them, and, suddenly casting his 
tail between his legs, fled home with a yelp ; so that 
the noise made by the Polikushka hopefuls was in- 
creased tenfold. 

The weather was wretched, the wind was cutting ; 
and something that was neither snow nor rain, nor yet 
sleet, began to lash Polik^i's face, and his bare hand 
with which he grasped the reins, protected as well as 
possible by the sleeve of his cloak ; and it rattled on the 
leather cover of the horse-collar, and on the head of old 
Baraban, who lay back his ears, and blinked his e^^es. 

Then suddenly it stopped, and lighted up for an 
instant ; the form of the dark purple snow-clouds 
became clearly visible ; and the sun, as it were, pre- 
pared to glance forth, but irresolutely and gloomily, 
like Polikei 's own smile. 

1 suba for ahuba. 



226 FOLIKUSHKA. 

Nevertheless, the son of Il3'a was absorbed in pleas- 
ant thoughts. He, — a man whom they thought of 
exiling, whom they threatened with the conscription, 
whom no one except the lazy spared either abuse or 
blows, whom they alwa3^s saddled with the most un- 
pleasant jobs, — he was now going to collect a sum o* 
money, and a big sum ; and he had his mistress's confi- 
dence ; and he was driving in the overseer's wagon with 
Baraban, his mistress's own horse ; and he was driving 
like some rich householder, with leather tugs and 
reins. And Polik^i straightened himself up, smoothed 
the wool on his cap, and once more bundled him up. 

However, if Polik^i thought that he was like a rich 
householder, he was greatly mistaken. Everybody 
knows that merchants who do a business of ten thou- 
sand rubles ride in carriages with leather trappings. 
Well, sometimes it's one way, and sometimes it's an- 
other. There comes a man with a beard, in a blue 
or it may be a black kaftan, sitting alone on the box 
behind a plump steed : as soon as you look at him and 
see whether his horse is plump, whether he himself is 
plump, how he sits, how his horse is harnessed, how 
the carriage shines, how he himself is girdled, you 
know instantl}- whether he is a muzhlli, who makes a 
thousand or a hundred rubles' worth of sales. 'rEvery 
experienced man, as soon as he looked closely at 
Polikei, at his hands, at his face, at his short neg- 
lected beard, at his girdle, at the hay spread carelessly 
over the box, at the lean Baraban, at the worn tire, 
would have known instantly that the rig belonged to a 
slave, and not a merchant, or a drover, or a house- 
holder with a thousand or a hundred or even ten rubles. 

But Ilyitch did not realize this : he deceived himself, 
and deceived himself pleasantly. Fifteen hundred rubles 



POLIKUSHKA. 227 

he will carry in his bosom. It comes into his mind, that 
he might drive Baraban to Odesta instead of home, and 
then go where God might give. But he will not do that, 
but will certainly carry the money to his mistress, and 
it will be said that no amount of money tempted him. 

As he came near a tavern, Barabdn began to tug on 
the left rein, to slacken his pace, and to turn in ; but 
Polik^i, in spite of the fact that he had money in his 
pocket given him for various commissions, cut Bara- 
ban with the knout, and drove by. The same thing 
took place at the next tavern ; and at noon he dis- 
mounted from the telyega, and opening the gate of the 
merchant's house, where the people from the estate 
always put up, drove the team in, unharnessed the 
horse, and gave him somehay, and ate his own dinner 
with the merchant's hired help, not failing to make the 
most of his important errand ; and then, with his letter 
in his cap, betook himself to the gardener. 

The gardener, who knew Polik(^i, read the letter, and 
found it evidently difficult to believe that he was really 
to deliver the money to the bearer. Polik^i did his 
best to be offended, but was not able to accomplish it ; 
he only smiled his peculiar smile. The gardener re-read 
the letter, and delivered the money. Polik<^i placed the 
money in his bosom, and went back to his lodgings. 
Not a beer-saloon, not a tavern, nothing seduced him. 
He experienced a pleasant exhilaration in all his 
being ; and not once did he loiter at the shops where 
all sorts of tempting wares were displayed, — boots, 
cloaks, caps. But as he walked along slowly, he had 
the pleasant consciousness : ' ' I could buy all these 
things, but I'm not going to." 

He went to the bazaar to execute his commissions, 
made them into a bundle, and then tried to beat down 



228 POLIKUSHKA. 

the price of a tanned sheepskin shuba, which was set 
at twenty-five rubles. The vender, looking critically 
at Polikei, did not believe that he had the money to 
buy it with ; but Polikei pointed to his breast, saying 
that he had enough to buy out his whole establishment 
if he wanted. He asked to try it on, hesitated, pulled 
on it, crumpled it, blew the fur, kept it on long enough 
to smell of it, then took it off with a sigh. " Uncon- 
scionable price ! If you would only let it go for fifteen 
rubles," he said. The dealer angrily pulled the gar- 
ment over the counter, but Polikei went out with a gay 
heart, and directed his steps to .his lodgings. After 
eating his supper, and giving Barabdn his water and 
oats, he climbed up on the stove, took out the envelope, 
and gazed at it long, and asked the lettered porter ^ to 
read the address to him, and the words, " with an en- 
closure of sixteen hundred and seventy paper rubles." 
The envelope was made of simple paper ; the seals 
were of dark brown wax with the impression of an 
anchor ; one large seal in the centre, four on the edge. 
On one side, a drop of wax had fallen. Ilyitch looked 
at all this, and fixed it in his memory, and even moved 
the sharp ends of the notes. He experienced a cer- 
tain childish satisfaction in knowdng that he held so 
much money in his hands. He put the envelope in the 
lining of his cap, made the cap into a pillow, and lay 
down ; but several times during the night he woke up, 
and felt after the money. And every time, finding' the 
envelope in its place, he experienced the same pleasur- 
able feeling in the consciousness that he, the proscribed 
and ridiculed, was carrying so much money, and was 
going to deliver it faithfully, — as faithfully as the 
overseer himself. 

1 dvornik. 



POLIKUSHKA. Xfel£4i.jP(J^^\^i> 



VIII. 

About midnight the merchant's people and Polik^i 
were aroused by a knocking at the gate and the shout- 
ing of muzhiks. It was the contingent of recruits, 
whom they were bringing in from Pokrovskoe. There 
were ten men in all: Khoriushkin, Mitiushkin, and 
Ilya, Dutlof's nephew, two substitutes, the stdrosta or 
elder, the old man Dutlof, and three drivers. The 
night-lamp was burning in the house, and the cook 
was asleep on the bench under the holy images. She 
sprang up, and began to light the lamps. Polikei also 
woke up, and bending down from the stove tried to see 
who the muzhiks were. 

Some of them came in, crossed themselves, and sat 
down on the bench. They were all extremely quiet, 
so that it was impossible to make out who belonged to 
the detachment. They greeted each other, jested, and 
asked for something to eat. To be sure, some were 
silent and glum ; on the other hand, others were ex- 
traordinarily gay, and apparently the worse for liquor. 
In this number was Ilya, who had never been drunk 
before. 

"Well, beys, are you going to have something to 
eat, or are you going to bed? " asked the village elder. 

" Have something to eat," replied Ilya, throwing 
back his sheepskin, and sprawling out on the bench. 
" Send for some vodka.*' 

*' You've had enough vodka!" rejoined the elder 



230 POLIKUSHKA. 

shortly, and turned to the others. ..." Better lunch 
on some bread, boj's, and not keep the people sitting 
up." 

"Give us some vodka," repeated Ilya, not looking 
at any one, and in a tone of voice that made it evident 
tliat he was not going to be put off. 

The muzhiks listened to the elder's advice, brought 
from the cart a great loaf of bread, ate it up, asked 
for kvas,^ and lay down to sleep ; some on the floor, 
some on the stove. 

Ilya kept saying occasionally, " Give me vodka, I 
say, give me vodka." Suddenly he caught sight of 
Polik^i. " Ilyitch — there's Ilyitch ! you here, dear 
old fellow ! Here I am going as a soldier ; said good- 
by to mamma, and my wife, — how bad she felt ! 
They made me a soldier. — Set up some vodka ! " 

"No money," said Polikei. "However, it's as God 
gives: maybe they'll find you disqualified," he added 
in a comforting tone. 

" No, brother, I have always been as sound as a 
birch: how could they find me disqualified? How 
many soldiers more does the Tsar need? " 

Polikei began to relate a story of how a muzhik 
gave a bribe to a dokhter^ and so escaped. 

Ilya came up to the stove, and continued the conver- 
sation. 

" No, Ilyitch, now it's done, and I myself don't want 
to get off". M}^ uncle didn't buy me off. Wouldn't 
they have bought themselves off? No, he didn't want 
to spare his son, and he didn't want to spare his money ; 
and they sent me instead. . . . And now I don't want 
to get off. [He spoke quietly, confidentially, under 
the influence of deep dejection.] However, I'm sorry 
1 A sort of beer made of rye-bread soaked in water and fermented. 



POLIKUSHKA. 231 

for mamma. And how the sweetheart took on ! Yes, 
and my wife — that's the way they kill tlie women. 
Now it's all over ; I am a soldier. Better not to have 
got married. Why did they make me marry? To- 
morrow we go." 

*' Why did they take you away with short notice?" 
asked Polik^i. " Nothing had been said about it, and 
then suddenly "... 

" You see, they were afraid I should do something 
to myself," replied Ilyushka smiling. "I wouldn't 
have done any thing, of course. I sha'n't be ruined by 
going as a soldier ; but I'm sorr}^ for the old woman. 
Why did they make me marry ? " he repeated in a soft 
and melancholy tone. 

The door opened, squeaking loudly, and the old man 
Dutlof, shaking the wet from his hat, came into the 
room in his huge sabots, which fitted his feet almost 
like canoes. 

" Afanasi," said he, crossing himself and address- 
ing the porter,^ "isn't there some one to hold a lan- 
tern while I give the horses their oats? " 

Dutlof did not look at his nephew, but quietly 
busied himself with making a candle-end burn. His 
glove and whip were thrust into his belt, and his cloak 
was closely buttoned ; he had just come with the bag- 
gage. His ordinarily calm, peaceful, and thoughtful 
face was full of care. 

Ilya, when he saw his uncle, stopped talking, again 
turned his eyes gloomily toward the bench, and then 
addressing the stdrosta said, — 

" Give me some vodka, Yermil ; I want something 
to drink." 

His voice was angry and stern. 

* dvornik. 



232 POLIKUSHKA. 

"This is no time for wine now," replied the std- 
rosta, sipping his cup of kvas. "Don't you see the 
folks have gone to bed? What do you want to make 
a disturbance for? '* 

The words " make a disturbance " apparently 
suggested to him the idea of making a disturb- 
ance. 

" Starosta, I'll do myself some harm, if you don't 
give me some vodka." 

" You'd better bring him to reason," said the 
stdrosta to Dutlof, who had now lighted the lantern, 
but stood listening to what was coming, and looking 
askance with deep commiseration at his nephew, as 
though wondering at his childishness. 

Ilya, in a tone of desperation, repeated his threat, — 

" Give me wine, or I'll do myself some harm.'* 

"Don't, Ilya," said the starosta gently, "please 
don't. It's better not." 

But these words had scarcely passed his lips ere Ilya 
leaped up, smashed the window-pane with his fist, and 
screamed with all his might. 

" You won't listen, here's for you," and darted for 
the other window to smash that also. 

Polikei, in the twinkling of an eye, rolled over twice, 
and hid himself in an angle of the stove, raising a 
panic among all the cockroaches. The elder threw 
aside his cup, and hastened after Ilya. Dutlof slowly 
put down the lantern, took off his girdle, clucked with 
his tongue, shook his head, and went to Ilya, who was 
already struggling with the elder and the porter, who 
tried to keep him from the window. They had his 
hands behind his back, and held him tight apparently ; 
but as soon as he saw his uncle with the belt in his 
hand, tenfold strength was given to him. He tore 



rOLIKUSITKA. 233 

himself away, and, rolling his eyes in frenzy, flung him- 
self upon Dutlof with doubled fist. 

" I'll kill you, don't you dare — You have ruined 
me! Why did you make me marry? Don't you 
dare — I will kill you ! " 

ll^-ushka was frantic. His face was purple, his eyes 
were wild, his whole healthy young body trembled as 
in an ague. It seemed as if he could and would kill 
all three of the muzhiks who were trying to subdue 
him. 

"You will shed 3'our kinsman's blood, you blood- 
hound!'' 

Something passed over Dutlof 's ever-calm face. He 
made a step forward. 

'' You'd better not do it," he said ; and then, how- 
ever he got his energy, he threw himself with a quick 
motion on his nephew, rolled over with him on the 
floor, and with the help of the elder, began to bind his 
hands. Within five minutes they had him fast. At 
hist Dutlof, with the aid of the muzhiks, got up, tear- 
ing Ilya's hands from his sheepskin, in which they 
were convulsively clutched, got up himself, and then 
carried the young man, with his hands behind his back, 
to a bench in one corner of the room. 

'' I said it would be worse," he remarked, getting his 
breath after the struggle, and adjusting his shirt-band. 
"Why should he sin? We must all die. Let him 
have a cloak for a pillow," he added, turning to the 
dvornik ; " the blood will run to his head ; " and, after 
girding himself with a rope, he took his lantern, and 
went out to his horses. 

Ilya with dishevelled locks, pale face, and disordered 
linen, glared about the room as though he were trying 
to remember where he was. The porter picked up the 



234 POLIKUSriKA. 

broken glass, and put a jacket in the window so as to 
keep out the cold. The elder again sat down with his 
cup of kvas. 

"Ay, Ilyukha, Ilyukha, I'm sorry for you, indeed 
I am. What's to be done? Here's Khoriushkiu, he's 
married too. No way of avoiding it." 

" My uncle is my enemy, and he wants to kill me," 
reiterated Ilya with tearless wrath. " Much he pities 
his own ! . . . Mdtushka said the overseer told him to 
hire a substitute. He wouldn't do it. He says he 
wouldn't borrow. Did I and my brother bring nothing 
into the house ? . . . He is our enemy." 

Dutlof came into the house, said a prayer before the 
holy images, took off his coat and hat, and sat down 
by the elder. The maid brought him also a cup of 
kvas and a spoon. Ilya said nothing, shut his eyes, 
and lay still on the cloak. The stdrosta silently 
pointed to him, and shook his head. Dutlof waved his 
hand. 

"Am I not sorrj^ to have him go? He's my own 
brother's son. And though I pity him so, they make 
it out that I'm his enemy. His wife ^ put it into his 
head ; a crafty woman, but quite too young. The idea 
of her thinking that we had money enough to hire a 
substitute ! And so she blamed me. And 3^et I'm 
sorry for him." 

" Akh, he's a fine young fellow," said the stc4rosta. 

" With my little means I couldn't do any thing* for 
him. To-morrow I am going to send Ignat in, and 
his wife will want to go." 

" Send her along, first-rate," said the stdrosta, and 
he got up and mounted the stove. " What's money? 
Money's dust." 

1 khozydika. 



POLIKUSRKA. 235 

*' Who would begrudge money if he had it? " asked 
one of the merchant's people, lifting his head. 

" Ekh ! money, money! it causes many a sin," re- 
plied Dutlof. " Nothing in the world causes so much 
sin as money, and it says so in the Scriptures.'* 

"It says every thing," said the porter. "A man 
told me the other day : there was a merchant, he had 
made a lot of money, and he did not want any of it to 
remain behind him. He loved his money so that he 
took it with him into his tomb. He came to die, and 
ordered every penny that he had to be put into a pillow 
in the grave with him. And so they did. By and by 
his sons began to seek for his money. None anywhere. 
One of them suspected that it was in the cushion. 
They go to the Tsar, and get permission to dig it up. 
And what do you think? They discovered that there 
was nothing there, but the grave was full of mould and 
worms ; and then they dig again, and there they find 
the money." 

*' Truly, much sin ! " said Dutlof, and, standing up, 
he began to say his prayers. 

After he had prayed, he looked at his nephew. He 
was asleep. Dutlof went to him, took off his belt, and 
then lay down. Another muzhik went out to sleep 
with the horses. 



236 POLIKUSIIKA. 



IX. 



As soon as all was quiet, Polik(5i, like one engaged 
in some gnilty deed, quie% slipped down from the 
stove, and began to make ready to depart. It some- 
how seemed to him a trying task to spend the night 
here with the recruits. The cocks were already call- 
ing to each other. 

Baraban had eaten all his oats, and was stretching 
after water. Ilyitch harnessed him, and led him out 
past the teams of the muzhiks. His cap with its pre- 
cious contents was safe, and his carriage-wheels were 
soon rolling anew over the frosty Pokrovski road. Poli- 
kei began to breathe more easily as soon as he got out 
of the city. At first, somehow, it seemed to him that he 
heard some one right behind him, following him ; it was 
as though they stopped him, and bound his hands behind 
him instead of Ilya, and to-morrow he would have to 
go to camp. It was neither from the cold nor from 
terror that a chill struck down his back, and he urged 
and urged Baral>an to his utmost endeavor. The first 
man whom he met was a priest in a high winter cap, 
walking with a one-eyed workman. Polik^i grew even 
more troubled. But as he left the city behind, this 
terror gi-adually diminished. Barabdn proceeded in a 
slow walk. It grew lighter, so that it was possible to 
see the road before him. Ilyitch t(X)k his cap, felt 
to see that the money was all right. '' Shall I put it in 
my bosom? " he queried. '' I should have to untie my 



POLIKUSHKA. 237 

girdle. Now I am coming to the hill. I'll get out of 
the tely^ga when I get there. I'll be careful. My cap 
fits tight, and it can't slip out from under the lining, 
and I won't take off my cap till I get home." 

When he came to the hill, Barabdn, in his peculiar 
trot, dashed up the slope ; and Polik^i', wlio, like the 
horse, felt a strong desire to get home, did not hinder 
him in his endeavor. 

Every thing was in order, or, at least, seemed to him 
so ; and he gave free course to his imagination in respect 
to his mistress's delight, and the five-silver- ruble piece 
which she would give him, and the joy of his family. 
He took off his cap, once more felt of the letter, 
crushed his cap down closer to his head, and smiled. 
The wool on his cap was rotten ; and for the very rea- 
son that Akulina, the day before, had carefully sewed 
the torn place, he tore the other end ; and the very 
motion that Polik^i made when he thought that he was 
pulling down the envelope with the money closer under 
the wool, — that same motion tore away the cap, and, 
gave the envelope a chance to escape from one corner 
under the pelt. 

It began to grow light, and Polik^i, who had not 
slept all night, grew drowsy. Adjusting his cap again, 
and still more loosening the envelope, Polik^i leaned 
his head on the side of the wagon, and drowsed. 

He woke up just as he reached home. His first im- 
pulse was to feel for his cap : it was firm on his head. 
He did not take it off, being convinced that the enve- 
lope was there. He whipped up Barabtln, adjusted the 
hay, again assumed the dignity of a householder, and, 
looking around him with an air of importance, rattled 
up toward his home. 

There was the cook-house, there the wing, there the 



238 POLIKUSHKA. 

joiner's wife hanging out her wash, there the office ; 
there the manor-house, where, in a moment, Polik^i 
would give proof that he was a faithful and honest 
man, "for any man can be slandered," and the mis- 
tress would say, ''Well, thank 3'ou, Polik^i, here's three 
— or maybe five, or maybe even ten — silver rubles for 
you ; " and would have some tea brought to hmi, and 
perhaps some spirits besides. It would not come amiss 
after the chilly ride. "And with the ten rubles we'll 
have a holiday, and buy some boots, and pay back 
Nikita the four rubles and a half, since he's begun to 
dun me for them.'* 

Not driving the two hundred steps that remained, 
Polikei straightened himself up, tightened his belt, 
adjusted his collar, took off his cap, smoothed his hair, 
and with confidence thrust his hand under the lining. 
His hand moved more and more nervously ; he inserted 
the other also. His face grew paler and paler. One 
hand came out on the other side. . . . Polikei fell on 
his knees, stopped the horse, and began to search all 
over the t^l3'ega, the hay, the bundle of purchases, to 
feel in his bosom, in his overalls. The money was 
nowhere to be found. 

" Mercy on me ! ^ What does this mean? What will 
be done to me? " he roared, tearing his hair. 

But just then, remembering that he might be seen, 
he turned Baraban around, put on his cap, and drove 
the astonished and reluctant animal up the road again. 

" I can't bear to have Polikei drive me," Barabdn 
must have said to himself. " Once in my life he 
has fed me and watered me in time, and just for the 
sake of deceiving me in the most unpleasant manner. 
How I put myself out to get home ! He stopped me, 

1 bdiiushku 



POLIKUSHKA. 239 

and just as I smelled our hay, he drives me back 
again.*' 

"Yon devilish good-for-nothing beast! " cried Poli- 
k^i through his tears, standing up in the telyega, and 
sawing on Barabdn's mouth, and plying the whip. 



240 POLIKUSIIKA. 



X. 



That whole day no one at Pokrovsko^ saw Polik^i. 
The mistress several times after dinner made inquiries, 
and Aksiutka flew down to Akullna : but Akulina said 
that he had not come ; that the merchant must have 
detained him, or something had happened to the horse. 
" Can't he have gone lame?" she suggested. " The 
last time Maksim was gone four and twenty hours, — 
walked the whole way.'* And Aksiutka's pendulums 
brought back the message to the house ; and Akulina 
thought over all the reasons for her husband's delay, 
and tried hard to calm her fears, but she did not 
succeed. Her heart was heavy, and her preparations 
for the next day's festival made little progress m her 
hands. She toi'mented herself all the more because 
the joiner's wife was convinced that she had seen him. 

''A man just like Ilyitch had driven up the prosli- 
pect^ and then turned back again." 

The children also waited restlessly and impatiently 
for their papa ; but for other reasons. Aniutka and 
Mashka were without any sheepskin or cloak ; and 
so they were' deprived of the possibility of taking turns 
in going into the street, and were therefore obliged 
to content themselves in their single garments, and to 
make circuits around the house with strenuous swift- 
ness so as to be troubled as little as possible by 
the inhabitants of the wing coming and going. Once 
Mashka tripped over the feet of the joiner's wife, who 



POLIKUSHKA. 241 

was lugging water ; and though she was crying histily 
from the knock that she received on her knee, yet her 
hair was pulled violently, and she began to cry still 
more grievously. When she did not meet any one, she 
flew straight into the door, and mounted the stove by 
means of the tub. 

The mistress and Akulina began to be really worried 
about Polikei himself ; the children, about what he 
wore. But Yegor Mikhailovitch, in reply to her lady- 
ship's question, " Hasn't Polikei come yet, and where 
can he be?" smiled, and said, " I cannot tell ; " and 
it was evident that he was satisfied to have his pre- 
supposition confirmed. " He would have to come to 
dinner," he said significantly. 

All that day no one at Pokrovsko6 had any tidings 
of Polikei : except it was noised abroad that some 
neighboring muzhiks had seen him without his cap, 
and asking every one " if they seen a letter." 

Another man had seen him asleep by the side of the 
road, near a horse hitched into a tely^ga. " I thought 
he was drunk," said this man, "and that the horse 
had not been fed or watered for a couple of days, his 
belly was so drawn up." 

Akulina did not sleep all night, but sat up waiting 
for him ; but not even in the night did he put in an 
appearance. If she had lived alone, and had a cook 
and second girl, she would have been still more un- 
happy ; but as soon as the cocks began to crow for 
the third time, and the joiner's wife got up, Akulina 
was obliged to rise and betake herself to the stove. It 
was a holiday ; so it was necessary before daylight to 
take out her bread, to make kvas, to bake cookies, 
to milk the cow, to iron the dresses and shirts, to 
wash the children, to bring water, and keep her ueigh- 



242 POLIKUSHKA. 

bor from occupying the whole oven. Aknlina ceased 
not to keep her ears open while she was fulfilling these 
duties. It W9S already broad daylight : already the 
bells had begun to peal, already the children were up, 
and still no Polikei. Yesterday, winter had really set 
in ; the fields, roads, and roofs were covered with 
patches of snow ; but to-da}-, as though in honor of a 
festival, it was clear, sunny, and cool, so that one 
could see and hear a long distance. But Akulina 
standing by the oven, and with her head thrust into 
the door so as to watch the baking of her cookies, did 
not hear Polikdi as he came in, and only by the cries 
of the children did she know that her husband had 
comel Aniutka, as the eldest, had oiled her hair and 
dressed herself. She had on a new calico dress, some- 
w^hat rumpled, the gift of the gracious lady, and it 
fitted her like the bark on a tree, and dazzled the 
neighbors* eyes ; her hair was shiny, having been 
rubbed with a caudle-cud ; her shoes were not exactly 
new, but were elegant. 

Mashka was still in jacket and rags, so Aniutka 
would not let her come near to her lest she should 
soil her clean things. jMashka was in the yard when 
her father came along with a bag. 

"Papa's come ! " she shouted, beginning to cry, and 
threw herself head-first into the door past Aniutka, 
leaving a great smutch on her dress. Aniutka, i]0 
longer afraid of getting soiled, immediately struck 
Mashka. Akulina could not leave her work, and had 
to shout to the children, "There now, stop ! I'll give 
you both a good thrashing ! ' ' and she glanced toward 
the door. Ilyitch, with his sack in his hand, came 
through the entry, and instantly threw himself into his 
corner. Akulina noticed that he was pale, and that his 



P0LIKU8HKA, 243 

face had an expression as though he had been neither 
weeping nor laughing : she could not understand it. 

" Well, Ilyitch,'* she asked, not leaving the oven, 
''what luck?" 

Ilyitch muttered something which she did not hear. 

''How?" she screamed, "have you been to our 
lady's?" 

Ilyitch sat down on the bed, looked wildly around, 
and smiled his guilty and deeply unhappy smile. For 
a long time he said nothing. 

"Well, Ilyitch? why so long?" rang Akulina's 
voice. 

" I, Akulina, — I gave the money to our lady ; how 
thankful she was!" said he suddenly, and looked 
around even more restlessly than ever, still smiling. 
Two objects especially attracted his restless, feverishly- 
staring eyes, — the rope fastened to the cradle, and 
the baby. He went to the cradle, and with his slender 
fingers began rapidly to untie a knot in the rope. 
Then his eyes rested on the babe ; but here Akulina, 
with the cookies on a platter, came into the corner, 
Ilyitch quickly hid the rope in his bosom, and sat 
down on the bed. 

"What's the matter, Ilyitch? you don't seem like 
yourself," said Akulina. 

" I haven't had any sleep," was his reply. 

Suddenly something flashed by the window ; and in 
an instant Aksiutka, the maid from the upper house, 
darted into the room. 

"The gracious lady^ commands Polik^i Ilyitch to 
come to her this minute," said she. " Avdot'ya Miko- 
Idvna commands j'ou to come this minute, — this 
minute." 

1 bdrinya. 



244 polikushka: 

Polik^i gazed at Akulina, at the maicl-servant. 

''Right away! what more is wanted?" he asked 
so simply that Akullna's apprehensions were quieted : 
maybe he is going to be rewarded. " Say 1 will come 
right away." 

He got up and went out. Akulina took a trough, 
placed it on the bench, poured in water from the 
buckets which stood by the door, filled it up with 
boiling water from the kettle, began to roll up her 
sleeves, and try the temperature of the water. 

" Come, Mashka, I want to wash yoij." 

The cross sibilating little gii-1 began to cry. 

" Come, you scabby wench ! I want to put you on a 
clean shirt. Now, make up faces, will you? Come, 
I've got to wash j^our sister yet." 

Polik^i meantime was going, not in the direction 
taken by the maid from the house, but exactly oppo- 
site. In the entry next the wall was a straight stair- 
case leading to the loft. When Polikei reached the 
entry he looked around, and, seeing no one, he bent 
down, and almost running climbed up this stairs 
quickly and with agilit}'. 

"What in the world does it mean that Polikei' 
doesn't come?" asked the lady impatiently, turning 
to Duniasha, who was combing her hair. "Where 
is Polikei? Why doesn't he come? " 

Aksiutka again flew down to the servants' wing, 
and again flew into the entry, and summoned Ilyitch to 
the mistress. " But he went long ago," said Akulina, 
who, having washed Mashka, was at this time in the 
act of putting her contumacious little boy in the 
trough, and silently, in spite of his cries, was washing 
his red head. The boy screamed, wrinkled up his 
face, and tried to clutch something with his helpless 



POLTKUSEKA. 245 

hands. Akullna with one big hand supported his 
weak, soft little back, all dimples, and soaped it. 

*' See if he isn't asleep somewhere," she said, 
glancing around nervously. 

The joiner's wife at this time with her hair unkempt, 
with her bosom open, and holding up her dress, was 
climbing up to the loft to get her clothes which were 
drying there. Suddenly a cry of horror was heard 
from the loft, and the joiner's wife, like one crazy, 
with wide-open eyes, came down on her hands and 
feet backwards, quicker than a cat, and fled from the 
stairs. 

'aiyftch," she cried. 

Akulina dropped the child which she was holding. 

"He has hung himself ! " roared the joiner's wife. 

Akulina — not noticing that the child, like a ball, 
rolled over and over on his face, and, kicking his little 
legs, fell head first into the water — ran to the entry. 

"From the beam — he is hanging," repeated the 
joiner's wife, but stopped when she saw Akulina. 

Akulina flew to the stairs, and before anj^ one could 
prevent her climbed up, and with a terrible cry fell 
back like a dead body on the steps ; and she would 
have killed herself if the people, coming from all parts, 
had not been in time to seize her. 



246 POLIKUSHKA. 



XI. 



For some minutes it was impossible to bring any 
order out of the general chaos. The people ran about 
in crowds, all screaming, all talking; children and old 
people weeping. Akulina lay in a dead faint. At 
last some peasants, the joiner, and the overseer, who 
came running up, mounted the stairs ; and the joiner's 
wife for the twentieth time related how she, without 
any thought of any thing, went after her clothes, looked 
in this way : '' I see a man ; I look more close : there's 
a cap lying on one side. I see his legs twitching. 
Then a cold chill ran down my back. At last I make 
out a man hanging there, and . . . that I should have 
to see that ! How ever I got down is more than I can 
tell. And it is a miracle that God saved me. Truly 
the Lord had mercy. It was so steep, and — such a 
height ! I might have got my death." 

The men who went into the loft told the same stoiy. 
Ilyitch was hanging from the beam, in his shirt and 
stockings alone, with the very rope that he had taken 
off from the cradle. His cap which had fallen off Jay 
beside him. He had taken off his jacket and sheep- 
skin shuba, and folded them neatly. His feet just 
touched the floor, and there was not a sign of life. 
Akulina came to herself, and tried to climb to the loft 
again ; but they would not let her. 

'' Mamma, ^ little brother has fallen i^ito the water," 

1 mdinuska. 



TOLIKUSHKA. 247 

suddenly screamed the sibilating girl from the corner. 
Akullna tore herself away, and darted back to the 
house. The babe, not stirring, lay head downwards 
in the tub, and his legs were motionless. Akulina 
seized him, but the child did not breathe, and gave no 
signs of life. Akulina threw him on the bed, put her 
arms akimbc, and burst into a fit of laughter so loud, 
discordant, and terrible, that Mashka, who at first 
began to laugh too, put her fingers in her ears, and ran 
weeping into the entry. 

The people also poured into the corner^ and filled it 
with their lamentations. They picked up the child, 
and tried to bring him to ; but it was in vain. Akulina 
jumped about on the bed, and laughed and laughed 
so uncannily that it threw a terror over those who 
heard it. 

And now to see this heterogeneous throng of lusty 
peasants and women, of old men and children, pressing 
into the entry, one could get some idea of the number 
of people who lived in the servants' quarters.^ All 
were running about this way and that, all talking at 
once ; many were weeping, and no one did any thing 
useful. The joiner's wife kept finding new-comers 
who had not heard her story ; and again and again she 
repeated how her deepest feelings had been stirred up 
by the unexpected sight, and how God had saved her 
from falling down the stairs. The old butler, in a 
woman's jacket, told how a woman in the time of the 
late bdrin had drowned herself in the pond. The 
overseer sent messengers after the police inspector^ 
and a priest, and stationed guards. The maid-servant 



"^ fliger, peasant corruption of fiiigel, the wing; the collecUou of izbds 
occupied by the dvorovui or domestic servants. 
' stanovoi. 



248 POLIKUSHKA. 

Aksiutka, her eyes red with weeping, peeped through 
a hole in the loft ; and though she could not see any 
thing there, yet she could not tear herself away and 
go to her mistress. 

Agdfya Mikhai'lovna, who had been the dowager's 
lady's-maid, made some tea to calm her nerves, and 
wept. The experienced old grandmother, Anna, with 
her swollen hanc\s smeared with olive-oil, was laying 
out upon the table the dead body of the little babe. 
The women stood around Akulina, and looked at her in 
silence. The children who lived in the corners looked 
at the mother, and began to cry, then choked down 
their sobs, and then again, looking at her, began to 
weep louder than ever. The bo3's and men collected 
around the steps, and with terror-stricken faces peered 
into the door and into the windows, unable to see any 
thing, and not understanding it all, and asking each 
other questions about what had happened. One said 
that the joiner had cut his wife's leg off with an 
axe. Another said that the laundress had had triplets. 
A third said that the cook's cat had had a fit, and 
bitten the people. But the truth gradually became 
generally known, and at last reached the mistress's 
ears. And it seems that they hadn't the wit to break 
the news gently to her : the rough Yc^gor told her point- 
blank, and so shattered her nerves that for a long time 
afterwards she could not get over it. 

The crowd now began to grow calmer! The joiner's 
wife set up her samovar, and made some warm tea ; 
and so those from outside, not receiving an invitation, 
took the hint that it was incumbent upon them to go 
home. The boj's began to tear themselves away from 
the steps. Everybody now knew what the trouble 
was, and crossing themselves were beginning to scatter 



POLIKUSHKA. 249 

in different directions, when suddenly the cry was 
raised, " bdrinya, bdrinya!"^ and all came rushing 
back again, and crowding together so as to give her 
room to pass. Nevertheless, all wanted to see what the 
lady would do. 

The bdrinya, pale, and with tears in her eyes, passed 
through the entry, and crossed the threshold into 
Akullna*s corner. A dozen heads crowded together 
and peered through the door. They pressed so vio- 
lently against one woman who was heavy with child, 
that she screamed, but nevertheless, taking advantage 
of the situation, this same woman managed to get the 
foremost place. And how could they help wishing to 
see the mistress in Akullna*s corner ! For the domes- 
tics it was much the same as a Bengal fire at the end 
of an exhibition. Of course it's a fine thing to burn 
the Bengal fire ; and of course it's a fine thing when 
the mistress, in her silk and laces, goes into Akulina's 
isomer. The lady went up to Akulina, and took her by 
the hand. But Akulina snatched it away. The old 
domestics shook their heads disapprovingly. 

''Akulina," said the lady, "for your children's 
sake calm yourself." 

Akulina gave a loud laugh and drew herself up. 

'' My children are solid silver, solid silver ! I don't 
deal in paper notes," she muttered rapidly. "I told 
Ilyitch, ' Don't keep the bank-notes,' and now they've 
smeared him with tar, smeared him — with tar and 
soap, lady. So if he's got the barn-itch, it'll cure 
him right away;" and again she went into a fit of 
laughter, louder than before. 



> " The mistress, the mistress," or, " the gracious lady." JBdrin and bd- 
ruinya or bdrinya are the terms used by the domestics for the master and 
mistress. 



250 POLIKUSHKA. 

The mistress turned around, and asked for the doc- 
tor's boy with some mustard. " Give me some cold 
water,*' and she herself began to look about for water. 
But when she saw the dead child, and the old grand- 
mother Anna standing by him, the mistress turned 
away, and all saw that she covered her face with a 
handkerchief and wept. But the grandmother Anna 
(it was a pity that the mistress did not see it : she 
would have appreciated it, and it was all done for her 
too) covered the child with a piece of linen, folded the 
little arms with her soft, skilful hand, and arranged 
the little head, composed the lips, and feelingly closed 
the eyes, and sighed, so that every one could see what 
a beautiful heart she had. But the mistress did not 
see it, and she could not have seen it. She began to 
sob, and when the first attack of hj'sterics was over 
they led her out into the entry, and they led her home. 

" That's all she could do," was what many thought, 
and they began to separate. Akulina was still laugh- 
ing, and talking nonsense. They led her into another 
room, cupped her, put on mustard-plasters, applied ice 
to her forehead ; but all the time she did not under- 
stand it in the least, did not weep, but laughed, and 
said and did such things that the kind people who were 
waiting on her could not restrain themselves, but even 
laughed. 



POLIKUSHKA. 251 



XII. 

The festival was not gay at Pokrovsko^. Notwith- 
standing the fact that the day was beautiful, the people 
did not go out to enjoy themselves : the girls did not 
collect to sing songs : the factory-boys who came out 
from the city did not play the harmonica or on the 
balald/ika ; ^ they did not jest with the girls. All sat 
around in the corners; and if they talked, they talked 
quietly, as though some ill-disposed person were there, 
and might overhear them. 

All day nothing happened. But in the evening, as 
it grew dusk, the dogs began to howl : and, as though 
signifying some misfortune, a wind sprang up and 
howled in the chimneys ; and such fear fell upon all 
the inhabitants of the dvor, that those who had candles 
lighted them before it was necessary ; those who were 
alone in any comer went to ask their neighbors to 
give them a night's lodging where there were more 
people ; and whoever had to go to the stables did not 
go, and did not hesitate to leave the cattle without 
fodder that night. And the holy water, which every 
one keeps in a vial, was all that night in constant 
requisition. Many were sure that thej' heard, during 
the night, some one walking up and down with a heavy 
tread over the loft; and the blacksmith saw how a 
serpent flew straight to the loft. 

* A feort of primitive guitar, with long neck, and short three-cornered 
sounding-board, strung with two or three strings, and thrummed with the 



252 POLIKUSflKA. 

None of the family staid in Polik6i's comer. The 
children and the crazy woman had been carried to 
other quarters. The dead little baby lay there, how- 
ever. And there were two old grandmothers and a pil- 
grim-woman ^ who diligently read the psalter, not for 
the sake of the child so much as for the solace of all 
this unhappiness. This was the mistress's desire. 
These old grandmothers and the pilgrim-woman them- 
selves heard, while one iX)rtion of the psalter was read, 
how the beam above creaked, and some one groaned. 
When they read the words, '' Let God rise up," the 
sounds ceased. 

The joiner's wife asked in one of her cronies ; and 
that night they did not sleep, but drank up enough tea 
to last her a week. They also heard how the beam 
creaked, and something sounded like the falling of 
heavy bags. The muzhiks on guard imparted some 
courage to the domestics, otherwise they would all 
have perished with fear. The muzhiks lay in the entry 
on the hay, and afterwards they also became con- 
vinced that they heard marvels in the loft ; although 
that same night they calmty talked about the necruits, 
munched their bread, combed their hair, and, most 
of all, filled the entry with that odor peculiar to the 
muzhiks, so that the joiner's wife, passing by them, 
spat, and scolded them for foul peasants. 

However it was, the suicide all the time was hanging 
in the loft ; and it seemed as if the evil spirit himself 
that night overshadowed the premises with his mon- 
strous pinions, showing his power, and coming nearer 
to all these people than ever before. At least, all of 
them had that impression. 

I don't know whether they were right. I am iu- 

* itrdnnitta. 




POLTKUSHKA. •'^'''^m^sm-- 253 



clined to think that they were entirely wrong. I think 
that if some man, that terrible night, had had courage 
enough to take a candle or a lantern, and blessing 
himself, or even not blessing himself, with the sign of 
the cross, had gone to the loft, slowly driving before 
him, by the flame of the candle, the terror of the night, 
and lighting up the beams, the sand, the cobweb- 
garlanded chimney, and the forgotten washing of the 
joiner's wife, — had gone straight up to Ilyitch, and if, 
not giving way to the feeling of fear, he had lifted the 
lantern to the level of his face, then he would have 
seen the familiar, emaciated body, with the legs touch- 
ing the floor (the rope had stretched) , lifelessly falling 
to one side, the unbuttoned shirt, under the opening 
of which his baptismal cross could not be seen, and 
with the head bent over on the breast, and the good- 
natured face, with the sightless ej'es wide open, and 
the sweet, guilty smile, and a stern calmness, and 
silence over all. 

Truly the joiner's wife, huddling up in the comer 
of her bed, with dishevelled hair and frightened eyes, 
telling how she heard what seemed like bags falling, 
was a far more terrible and fear-inspiring object than 
Ilyitch, though he had taken oflf his cross and laid it 
on a bench. 

Above — that is, at the great house — there was the 
same fear that reigned in the wing. In the lady's room 
there was an odor of eau de cologne and medicine. 
Duniasha was melting beeswax, and making a cerate. 
Why a cerate especiall}^, is more than I can tell ; but 
I know that a beeswax plaster was always made when 
the mistress was ill. And now she was so disturbed 
that she was really ill. Duniasha's aunt had come to 
spend the night with her, so as to keep her courage up; 



254 POLIKUSHKA. 

Four of them were sitting in the girls' sitting-room, 
— among them the little maid, — and were quietly 
conversing. 

" Who is going after the oil? " asked Duniasha. 

" I wouldn't go, not for any thing, Avdot'ya Miko- 
Mvna," said the second girl in a tone of determination. 

" Come now, go with Aksiutka." 

'' I will run alone. I ain't afraid of nothing," said 
Aksiutka, " but she's afraid of every thing." 

'' Well, then, go ahead, dear; borrow it of the old 
granny Anna, and don't spill it," said Duniasha. 

Aksiutka lifted her skirt with one hand, and though 
on account of this she could not swing both arms, she 
swung one twice as violently across the line of her 
direction, and flew off. It was terrible to her ; and she 
felt that if she should see or hear any thing whatso- 
ever, even though it were her own mother, she should 
fall with fright. She flew, with her eye* shut, over 
the well-known path. 



POLIKUSHKA. 255 



XIII. 

''Is our lady asleep, or not?" asked a muzhik's 
hoarse voice suddenly near Aksiutka. She opened 
her eyes, which had been tightly shut, and saw a form 
which it seemed to her was higher than the wing. She 
wheeled round, and sped back so fast that her petti- 
coat did not have time to catch up with her. With one 
bound she was on the steps, with another in the sit- 
ting-room, and giving a wild shriek flung herself on 
the lounge. 

Duniasha, her aunt, and the second girl almost died 
of fright ; but they had no time to open their eyes, ere 
heavy, deliberate, and irresolute steps were heard in the 
entry and at the door. Duniasha ran into her mistress's 
room, dropping the cerate. The second girl hid behind 
a skirt that was hanging on the wall. The aunt, who 
had more resolution, was about to hold the door ; but 
the door opened, and a muzhik strode into the room. 

It was Dutlof in his huge boots. Not paying any 
heed to the afif righted women, his eyes sought the 
ikons ; and, not finding the small holy image that hung 
in a corner, he crossed himself toward the cupboard, 
laid his cap down on the window, and thrusting his 
thick hand into his sheepskin coat, as though he were 
trying to scratch himself under the arm, he drew out 
a letter with five brown seals, imprinted with an 
anchor. Duniasha's aunt put her hand to her breast ; 
she was scarcely able to articulate, — 



256 POLIKUSHKA. 

" How you frightened me, Naumuitch !* I ca-n-n't 
sa-y a wo-r-d. I thought that the end . . . had . . . 
come.'* 

"What do you want?*' asked the second girl, 
emerging from behind the skirt. 

'' And they have stirred up our lady so," said Duni- 
asha coming from the other room. " What made you 
come up to the sitting-room without knocking? You 
stupid muzhik! " 

Dutlof, without making any excuse, said that he 
must see the mistress. 

" She is ill," said Duniasha. 

By this time Aksiutka was snorting with such un- 
becomingly loud laughter, that she was again obliged 
to hide her head under the pillows, from which, for a 
whole hour, notwithstanding Duniasha' s and her aunt's 
threats, she was unable to lift it without falling into 
renewed fits of laughter, as though something were 
loose in her rosy bosom and red cheeks. It seemed 
to her so ridiculous that they were all so frightened — 
and she again would hide her head, and, as it were in 
convulsions, shuffle her shoes, and shake with her 
whole body. 

Dutlof straightened himself up, looked at her at- 
tentively as though wishing to account for this peculiar 
manifestation ; but, not finding any solution, he turned 
away and continued to explain his errand. 

" Of course, as this is a ver}" important business," 
he said, " just tell her that a muzhik has brought her 
the letter with the money." 

''What money?" 

* The son of Nahum. It is customary among the peasantry to call each 
other by the patronymic. Thus Polikei is generally called llyitch, son of 
llya, instead of the more formal Polikei llyitch. 



POLIKUSHKA. 257 

Duniasha, before referring the matter to the mis- 
tress, read the address, and asked Dutlof when and 
how he had got this money which Ilyitch should have 
brought back from the city. Having learned all the 
particulars, and sent the errand-girl, who still contin- 
ued to laugh, out into the entry, Duniasha went to 
the mistress ; but to Dutlof 's surprise the lady would 
not receive him at all, and sent no message to him 
through Duniasha. 

" I know nothing about it, and wish to know noth- 
ing," said the mistress, "about any muzhik or any 
money. I can not and I will not see any one. Let 
him leave me in peace.** 

" But what shall I do? " asked Dutlof, turning the 
envelope around and around; "it's no small amount 
of money. It*s written on there, isn't it?" he in- 
quired of Duniasha, who again read to him the super- 
scription. 

It seemed hard for Dutlof to believe Duniasha. He 
seemed to hope that the money did not belong to the 
gracious lady, and that the address road otherwise. 
But Duniasha repeated it a second time. He sighed, 
placed the envelope in his breast, and prepared to go 
out. 

" I must give it to the police inspector," he said. 

" Simpleton, I will ask her again ; I will tell her," 
said Duniasha, detaining him when she saw the en- 
velope disappearing under his coat. " Give me the 
letter." 

Dutlof took it out again, but did not immediately 
put it into Duniasha's outstretched hand. 

"Tell her that Dutlof Sera'yon found it on the 
road." 

"Well, give it here. ^^ 



258 POLIKUSHKA. 

'' I was thinking — well, take it. A soldier read the 
address for me — that it had money. ' ' 

"Well, let me have it.** 

"I didn't dare to go home on account of this," 
said Dutlof again, not letting go the precious en- 
velope. /'Well, let her see it." 

Duniasha took the envelope, and once more went to 
her ladyship. 

"O Duniasha,"^ said the mistress in a reproachful 
tone, " don't speak to me about that money. I can't 
think of any thing else except that poor little babe." 

'* The muzhik, my lady,^ knows not who you want 
him to give it to," insisted Duniasha. 

The lady broke the seals, shuddered as 'soon as she 
saw the money, and pondered for a moment. 

'* Horrible money ! it has brought nothing but 
woe," she mused. 

" It is Dutlof, my lady.^ Do you wish him to go, or 
will you come and see him ? Is all the money there ? ' * 
asked Duniasha. 

'' I do not wish this money. This is horrible money. 
What harm it has done ! Tell him that he may have 
it if he wants it," suddenly exclaimed the lady, seiz- 
ing Duniasha' s hand. 

"Fifteen hundred rubles,'* remarked Duniasha, 
smiling gently as to a child. 

"Let him have it all," repeated the lady impa- 
tiently. " Why don't you understand me? This* is 
misfortune's money : don't ever speak about it to me 
again. Let this muzhik have it, if he brought it. Go, 
go right away ! " 

Duniasha returned into the sitting-room. 

" Was it all there? " asked Dutlof. 

1 4AA, Bozhe mdi. * suddrinya* 



FOLIKUSHKA. 259 

"Count for yourself,** said Duniasha, handing him 
the envelope : " she told me to give it to you.'* 

Dutlof stuffed his cap under his arm, and bending 
over tried to count. 

" Haven't you got a counting-machine? '* 

Dutlof understood that it was a whim of the mis- 
tress's not to count, and that she had bidden him to 
do it. 

"Take it home, and count it. It's yours, — your 
money," said Duniasha severely. " Says she, ' I don't 
want it ; let the man have it who found it.' '* 

Dutlof, not straightening himself up, fixed his eyes 
on Duniasha. 

Duniasha's aunt also clapped her hands. "Good- 
ness gracious ! ^ God has given you such luck ! Good- 
ness gracious ! " 

The second girl could not believe it. " You're 
joking! Did really Avdot'ya Nikolovna say that?" 

" What do you mean — joking ! She told me to 
give it to the muzhik. Now take your money, and 
be off," said Duniasha, not hiding her vexation. " One 
has sorrow, another joy." 

"It must be a joke, — fifteen hundred rubles!" 
said the aunt. 

" More than that," said Duniasha sharply. " Now 
you will place a great big candle for Mikola," ^ she 
continued maliciously. "What! have you lost your 
wits ? It would be good for some poor fellow. And 
you have so much of your own." 

Dutlof finally arrii^ed at a comprehension that it was 
meant in earnest ; and he began to fold together and 
smooth down the envelope with the money, which in 
the counting he had burst open : but his hands trem- 

1 mdtushki rodimuia I a gt. Nicholas. 



260 P0LIKU8HKA. 

bled, and he kept looking at the women, to persuade 
himself that it was not a jest. 

*' You see you haven't come to your senses with 
joy,'* said Duniasha, making it evident that she de- 
spised both the muzhik and money. " Give it to me, 
I'll fix it for you." 

And she offered to take it, but Dutlof did not trust 
it in her hands. He doubled the money up, thrust it 
in still farther, and took his cap. 

''Glad?" 

" I don't know ; what's to be said? Here it's '* — 
He did not finish his sentence, but waved his hand, 
grinned, almost burst into tears, and went out. 

The bell tinkled in the mistress's room. 

" Well, did you give it to him? ** 

''I did." 

" Well, was he very glad? '* 

" He was like one gone crazy." 

"Oh, bring him back! I want to ask him how he 
found it. Bring him in here. I can't go out to him." 

Duniasha flew out, and overtook the muzhik in the 
hall. He had not put on his hat, but had taken out 
his purse, and bending over was opening it ; but the 
money he held between his teeth. Maybe it seemed to 
him that it was not his until he had put it in his purse. 
When Duniasha called him back, he was startled. 

"What . . . Avdot'ya? . . . Avdot'ya Mikolavna? 
Is she going to take it away from me ? If 3'ou would 
only take my part, I would bring you some honey, 
— before God I would." 

"All right, bring it.**' 

Again the door opened, and the muzhik was led into 
the mistress's presence. It was not a happy moment 
for him. "Akh! she's going to take it back!" he 



POLIKUSHKA. 261 

said to himself, as he went through the rooms, lifting 
his feet very high, as though walking through tall 
grass, so as not to make a noise with his big wooden 
shoes. He did not comprehend, and he scarcely 
noticed what was around him. He passed by the 
mirror ; he saw some flowers, some muzhik or other 
lifting up his feet shod in sabots, the bdriu painted 
with one eye and something that seemed to him like a 
green tub, and a white object. . . . Suddenlj^ from the 
white object issued a voice. It was the mistress. He 
could not distinguish any one clearly, but he rolled his 
eyes around. He knew not where he was, and every 
thing seemed to be in a mist. 

"Is it you, Dutlof?" 

" It's me, your ladyship.^ It's just as it was. I 
didn't touch it," he said. "I wasn't glad, — before 
God, I wasn't. I almost killed my horse." 

"It's your good luck," she said with a perfectly 
sweet smile. " Keep it, keep it. It's yours." 

He only opened wide his eyes. 

"I am glad that you have it. God grant that it 
prove useful to you. Are you glad to have it? " 

" How could I help being glad? Glad as I can be, 
mdtushka ! I will always pray to God for you. I am 
as glad as 1 can be, that, glory to God, our mistress is 
alive. Only it was my fault." 

"How did you find it?" 

" You know that we can always work for our lady 
for honor's sake, and, if not that "... 

" He's getting all mixed up, my lady said," Duniasha. 

" I carried my nephew, who's gone as a wecruit, and 
on my way back I found it on the road. Polikei 
must have dropped it accidentally." 

1 Ya-8 suddrinya. 



262 POLIKUSHKA. 

" Well, now go, now go ! I am glad.'* 
'' So am I glad, mdtushka," said the muzhik. 
Then he recollected that he had not thanked her, 
but he did not know how to go about it in the proper 
manner. The lady and Duniasha both smiled, as he 
again started to walk, as though through tall grass, 
and by main force conquered his impulse to break into 
a run. But all the time it seemed to him that they 
were going to hold him, and take it from him. 



POLIKUSBKA. 263 



XIV. 

Making his way out into the fresh air, Dutlof turned 
off from the road to the lindens, unloosed his belt so 
the more conveniently to get at his purse, and then 
began to put away the money. He moved his lips, 
sucking them in and pushing them out again, though 
he made no sound. After he had stowed away the 
money, and buckled his girdle again, he crossed him- 
self, and went rolling along the path as though he 
were drunk ; so absorbed was he by the thoughts 
rushing through his brain. Suddenly he saw before 
him the form of a muzhik, coming to meet him. He 
screamed. It was Yefim, who with a club was acting 
as guard on the outside of the wing. 

'' Ah, uncle Sem*y6n," said Yefimka joyfully as he 
came nearer. [It was rather gloomy for him to be all 
alone.] Well, have you got the recruits off ? '* 

" Yes. What are you doing? " 

" They stationed me here to guard Ilyitch, who hung 
himself." 

''But where is Ilyitch?" 

*' Here in the loft: they say he's hanging there," 
replied Yefimka, pointing with his stick through the 
darkness, to the roof of the wing. 

Dutlof looked in the direction indicated ; and though 
he saw nothing, he blinked his eyes and shook his 
head. 

"The police inspector has come," said Yefimka. 



264 POLIKVSHKA. 

*■'• The coachman told me. They are going to take 
him right down. Kind of a fearful night, uncle. ^ I 
wouldn't go in there to-night, not even if orders had 
come from the upper house. Not if Y^gor Mikhal- 
uitch beat me to death would I go in there." 

" What a terrible misfortune ! " said Dutlof, evidently 
from a sense of propriety ; for in reality he was not 
thinking of what he was saying, and was anxious to 
go his way. But the overseer's voice chained him 
to the spot. 

'' Hey, guard, come here ! " cried Yegor Mikhailo- 
vitch, from the steps. 

Yefimka responded to the call. 

" What muzhik was standing there with you?** 

'* Dutlof." 

" You too, Sem'yon, come here.** 

As Dutlof drew near, he saw, by the light of the 
lantern carried by the coachman, not only the overseer, 
but a strange man in a uniform cap with a cockade, 
and wearing a cloak : this was the police inspector. 

"Here is an old man will go with us," said the over- 
seer, pointing to him. 

The old man winced, but there was nothing to be 
done. 

" And you, Yefimka, you're only a young man ; 
just run on ahead to the loft where he's hanging, 
and clear away the stairs so that his honor can get 
up.** 

Yefimka, although he would not for any thing go 
into the wing^ started off, tramping with his feet as 
though they were beams. 

The police inspector struck a light, and began to 
smoke his pipe. He lived two versts away ; and he 

* (Tyadiushka, diminutive of (VyouVya. 



POLIKUSHKA. 265 

had just been engaged in receiving from the captain 
of police ^ a sharp dressing for drunkenness, and was, 
consequently, still suffering from an attack of ill 
humor. The overseer asked Dutlof why he was there. 
Dutlof told him in a straightforward way about the 
finding of the money, and what the bdrinya had done. 
Dutlof said that he was going to ask the overseer's 
permission. The overseer, to Dutlof s horror, asked 
for the envelope, and looked at it. The police inspector 
also took the envelope, and asked, in a few dry words, 
about the particulars. 

" Now, good-by to my money," thought Dutlof, and 
began already to excuse himself. But the police in- 
spector gave him the money. 

*' That's luck for the rascal ! " he said. 

''Comes in good time," said the overseer. " He's 
just taken his nephew to camp. Now he can buy him 
off." 

" Ah ! " said the police inspector, and started on. 

"Are you going to get Ilyushka a substitute? " in- 
quired the overseer. 

"How get him a substitute? Is there money 
enough? And, besides, it's too late." 

"You know best," said the overseer, and both 
followed the police inspector. 

They went into the wing, at the entry of which the 
ill-smelling guards were waiting with a lantern. Dut- 
lof followed them. The guards had a guilty look, 
which was to be attributed only to the odor arising 
from them, because they had been doing nothing 
wrong. All were silent. 

" Where? " asked the police inspector. 

" Here," whispered the overseer. "Yefimka," he 

1 Upravnik. 



266 POLTKUSHKA. 

added, "you're a fine young man, go ahead with the 
lantern." 

Yef imka straightened his forelock ; it seemed as if 
he had lost all his fear. Going up two or three steps, 
he kept turning round, with a glad countenance, and 
throwing the light on the police inspector's way. 
Behind the inspector followed the overseer. When 
they were out of sight, Dutlof, resting one foot on 
the step, sighed and stopped. In the course of two 
minutes, the sound of the steps ceased ; evidently they 
were approaching the body. 

''Uncle! you're wanted," cried Yefimka, in the 
skylight. 

Dutlof went up. The police inspector and the over- 
seer could be seen in the light of the lantern, but the 
beam partly hid them from sight. Near them stood 
some one with back toward them. It was Polikei. 
Dutlof went beyond the beam, and, crossing himself, 
halted. 

*' Turn him round, boys," commanded the coroner. 

No one stirred. 

"Yefimka, you're a fine young man," said the 
overseer. 

The "fine young man" walked up to the beam, 
and turning Ilyitch's body round stood by him, look- 
ing with the same pleased expression, now at Ilyitch, 
now at the officer, just as a showman exhibiting an 
albino, or some monstrosity,^ looks now at the public, 
now at the object of his exhibition, and is ready to 
fulfil all the desires of his spectators. 

" Turn him round again." 

The body turned around once more, waved its hands 

1 Yulia Pastrana: a girl like a monkey, with hairy arms and face, ex- 
hibited all over Europe, some years ago. 



POLIKUSHKA. 267 

slightly, and the leg made a circle on the sanded 
floor. 

" Come now, take him down.'* 

'' Do you order him cut down, Vasili Borisovitch? " 
demanded the overseer. '' Bring an axe, friends ! " 

Twice the order had to be given to Dutlof and the 
guards to lift him up. But the "fine young man" 
handled Ilyitch as he would the carcass of a sheep. 
Finally they cut the rope, took down the body, and 
threw a cloth over it. The police inspector said that 
the doctor would come on the next day, and sent the 
people away. 



268 POLIKUSHKA. 



XV. 



DuTLOF, still moving his lips, went home. At first, 
it was hard for him ; but in proportion as he drew near 
the village, this feeling passed away, and a feeling of 
pleasure more and more penetrated his heart. Songs 
and drunken voices were heard in the village. Dutlof 
never drank, and now he went straight home. It was 
already late when he reached his cottage.^ His old 
woman was asleep. His oldest son and the grand- 
children were asleep on the oven, the other son in the 
closet. The nephew's wife ^ was the only person 
awake ; and she, in a dirty, every-day shirt, with her 
hair unkempt, was sitting on the bench and weeping. 
She did not get up to open the door for the uncle, 
but began to weep more bitterly, and to reproach him, 
as soon as he came into the cottage. By the old 
woman's advice she talked very clearly and well, 
though, being still young, she could not have had any 
practice. 

The old woman got up, and began to get her hus- 
band something to eat. Dutlof drove his nephew's 
wife away from the table. " That'll do ! that'll do ! " 
said he. Aksinya got up, and then throwing herself 
down on the bench still continued to weep. The old 
woman silently set the things on the table, and then 
put them in order. The old man also refrained from 
saying a single word. After performing his devotions, 

1 is6d. * IlyushkirCa baba. 



POLIKUSTIKA. 269 

he belched once or twice, washed his hands, and, tak- 
ing the abacus down from the nail, went to his closet. 
There he began to whisper with his old wife : then the 
old woman left him alone, and he began to rattle the 
abacus ; finally he lifted the lid of a chest, and climbed 
down into a sort of cellar. He rummaged round long 
in the closet and in the cellar. When he came out, it 
was dark in the cottage ; the pitch-pine knot had 
burnt out. 

The old woman, who by day was ordinarily mild 
and quiet, had retired to her room, and was snoring so 
as to be heard all over the cottage. The noisy niece, ^ 
on the other hand, was also asleep, and her breathing 
could not be heard. She was asleep on the bench 
just as she was, not having undressed, and without any. 
thing under her head. Dutlof said his prayers, then 
glanced at his niece, raised her head a little, slipped a 
stick under it, and, after belching again, climbed upon 
the oven, and lay down next his grandson. In the 
darkness he took off his shoes, and lay on his back, 
and tried to make out the objects on the stove, barely 
visible above his head ; and listened to the cock- 
roaches rustling over the wall, to the breathing, and 
the restless moving of feet, and to the noises of the 
cattle in the yard. 

It was long before he went to sleep. The moon 
came up, and it grew lighter in the cottage. He could 
see Aksinya in the corner, and something which he 
could not make out. Was it a cloak that his son had 
forgotten ? or had the women left a tub there ? or was 
it some one standing? Whether he drowsed or not, 
who can say? but now he began to look again. . . . 
Evidently that dark spirit which led Ilyitch to commit 

> Eyushkina baba. 



270 POLIKUSHKA. 

the terrible deed, and which impressed the domestics 
that night with its presence, — evidently that spirit 
spread its pinions over the whole estate, and over Dut- 
lof s cottage, where was concealed that money which he 
enjoyed at the cost of Ilyitch's ruin. At all events, 
Dutlof felt it there. And Dutlof was not in his usual 
spirits, — could not sleep, nor sit up. When he saw 
something that he could not explain, he remembered 
his nephew with his pinioned arms, he remembered 
Aksinya's face and her flowing discourse, he remem- 
bered Ilyitch with his dangling hands. 

Suddenly it seemed to the old man that some one 
passed by the window. " What is that? Can it be 
the elder ^ has come to ask the news ? " he said to him- 
self. ''How did he unlock the door?" the old man 
asked himself in surprise, hearing steps in the entry ; 
'' or did the old woman leave it open when she went to 
the door? " The dog howled in the back yard, but it 
passed along the entry, and, as the old man after- 
wards related the story, seemed to hunt for the door, 
passed by, once more tried to feel along the wall, 
stumbled across the tub, and it rang. And once more 
IT tried to feel along the wall, actually found the latch- 
string. Then it took hold of it. A chill ran over 
the old man's body. Here the latch was lifted, and the 
form of a man came in. Dutlof already knew that it 
was IT. He tried to get hold of his cross, but could 
not. It came to the table, on which lay a cloth, threw 
it on the floor, and came to the oven. The old man 
knew that it was in Ilyitch's form. He trembled ; his 
hands shook. It came to the oven, threw itself on 
the old man, and began to choke him. 

" My money," said J72/iYc7i. 

* stdrosta. 



POLTKUSnKA. 271 

Sem'y6n tried, but could not say, "Let me go, I 
will not." 

Ilyitch pressed down upon him with all the weight 
of a mountain of stone resting upon his breast. Dut- 
lof knew that if he could say a prayer, it would leave 
him ; and he knew what kind of a prayer he ought 
to say, but this prayer would not form itself on his 
lips. 

His grandson was sleeping next him. The boy 
uttered a piercing scream, and began to weep. The 
grandfather had crowded him against the wall. The 
child's cry unsealed the old man's lips. " Let God 
arise up," he repeated. It loosed its hold a little. 
" And scatter our enemies," whispered Dutlof. It got 
down from the stove. Dutlof listened as it touched 
both feet to the floor. Dutlof kept repeating all the 
prayers that he knew ; said them all in order. It went 
to the door, passed the table, and struck the door such 
a rap tliat the cottage trembled. Every one was asleep 
except the old man and his grandson. The grand- 
father repeated the prayers, and trembled all over : the 
grandson wept as he fell asleep, and cuddled up to his 
grandfather. 

All became quiet again. The old man lay motion- 
less. The cock crowed behind the wall at Diitlof's 
ear. He heard how the hens began to stir themselves ; 
how the young cockerel endeavored to imitate the old 
cock, and did not succeed. Something moved on the 
old man's legs. It was the cat. She jumped down 
on her soft paws from the oven to the ground, and 
began to miaw at the door. 

The grandfather got up, opened the window. In 
the street it was dark, muddy. The corpse stood there 
under the very window. He went in his stocking-feet 



272 POLIKUSHKA. 

to the yard,^ crossing himself as he went. And here 
it was evident that the 7naster ^ was coming. The 
mare, standing under the shed by the wall, with her leg 
caught in the bridle, was lying in the husks, and 
raised her head, waiting for the master. The foal was 
stretched out on the manure. The old man lifted him 
on his legs, freed the mare, gave her some fodder, and 
went back to the cottage. The old woman got up, and 
kindled the fire. 

" Wake the boys ; I am going to town.*' 

And lighting one of the wax candles that stood 
before the sacred images, he took it, and went with 
it down into the cellar. When he came up, not only 
was his own fire burning, but those in the neighboring 
cottages were lighted. The children were up, and all 
ready. Women were coming and going with pails and 
tubs of milk. Ignat was harnessing a telyega. The 
other son was oiling another. The niece ^ was not to 
be seen, but, dressed in her best, and with a shawl on, 
was sitting on the bench in the cottage, and waiting 
for the time to go to town and say good-by to her 
husband. 

The old man had an appearance of peculiar stern- 
ness. He said not a word to any one : put on his new 
kaftan, girdled himself tightly, and with all of Polek^i's 
money under his coat, went to the overseer. 

"You wait for me," he shouted to Ignat, who was 
whirling the wheel round on the raised axle, and oiling 
it. '' I'll be back in a moment. Be all ready." 

The overseer, who was just up, was drinking his tea, 
and had made his preparations to go to the city to 
deliver the recruits over to the authorities. 

'' What do you wish? " he asked. 

1 dvor. 2 khozydin. ^ moloddika. 



POLIKUSHKA. 273 

'' Y^gor Mikhaluitch, I want to buy the young fellow 
off. Be so good. You told me a day or two ago that 
you knew a substitute in the city. Tell me how. I 
am ignorant.'* 

" What ! have you reconsidered it? " 

>'I have, Y^gor Mikhalituch. It's too bad, — my 
brother's son. Whatever he did, I'm sorry for him. 
Much sin comes from it, from this money. So please 
tell me," said he, making a low bow. 

The overseer, as always in such circumstances, drew 
in his lips silently, and went into a brown study ; then 
having made up his mind, wrote two letters, and told 
him what and how he must do in town. 

When Dutlof reached home, the niece was just 
coming out with Ignat ; and tlie gray, pot-bellied mare, 
completely harnessed, was standing at the gate. He 
broke off a switch from the hedge. Wrapping himself 
up, he took his seat on the box, and started up the 
horse. 

Dutlof drove the mare so fast that her belly seemed 
to shrink away, and he did not dare to look at her 
lest he should feel compunction. He was tormented 
by the thought that he might be late in reaching camp, 
that Ilyukha would have already gone as a soldier, and 
that the devilish money would still be in his hands. 

I am not going to give a detailed description of all 
Dutlof's adventures that morning. I will only say 
that he was remarkably successful. At the house of 
the man to whom the overseer gave him a letter, there 
was a substitute read}' and waiting, who had spent 
twenty-three silver rubles of his bounty-money, and 
had alread}^ passed muster. His master ^ wanted to get 
for him four hundred rubles ; but another man,^ who 

1 khozhyain. ^ a meahchdnin. 



274 POLIKUSHKA. 

had already' been after him for three weeks, was anx- 
ious to beat him down to tiiree hundred. 

Dutlof couckided the business with few words. 
" Will you take three hundred and twenty-five? "said 
he, offering his hand, but with an expression that 
made it evident that he was ready to give even more. 
The master held out his hand, and continued to demand 
four hundred. 

" Won't you take three hundred and twentj^-five? " 
repeated Dutlof, seizing the master's right hand with 
his left, and making the motion to clap it with the 
other. *' You won't take it? Well, God be with you," 
he exclaimed, suddenly striking hands with the master, 
and, with the violence of the motion, swinging his 
whole body round from him. "Then, make it this 
way ! Take three hundred and fifty. Make out the 
fitanets.^ Bring the young man. And now for the 
earnest-money. Will two ten-ruble pieces do? " 

And Dutlof unbuckled his belt, and drew out the 
money. 

Though the master did not withdraw his hand, yet 
apparently he was not wholly satisfied, and before ac- 
cepting the earnest-money, he demanded a fee, and 
entertainment money for the substitute. 

''Don't commit a siri,'' said Dutlof, pressing the 
money upon him. " We must all die," he went on in 
such a short, didactic, and confident voice that the 
master said, "There's nothing to be done," once 
more shook hands, and began to say a prayer. 
"With God's blessing," he said. 

They awoke the substitute, who was still sleeping off 
his yesterday's spree ; they inspected him, and then 
all went to the authorities. The substitute was hila- 

1 Mispronunciation of quittance. 



POLIKUSriKA. 275 

rious, asked to be refreshed with some rum, for which 
Dutlof gave him money, and began to feel scared 
only at the moment when they first entered the vesti- 
bule of the court-house. They stood long in the 
vestibule : the old master ^ in a blue overcoat, and the 
substitute in a short sheepskin, with 'lifted eyebrows 
and wide-staring eyes ; long they stood there whispering 
together, asked questions of this man and that, were 
sent from pillar to post, took off their hats and bowed 
before every petty clerk, and solemnl}^ listened to the 
speech made by a clerk whom the master knew. All 
hope of finishing the business that day was vanishing, 
and the substitute was already beginning to feel more 
cheerful and easy, when Dutlof caught sight of Yegor 
Mikhailovitch, immediatel}^ went to him, and began to 
beseech him, and make low bows. The overseer's influ- 
ence was so powerful, that by three o'clock the substi- 
tute, much to his disgust and surprise, was conducted 
into the audience-chamber, enrolled on the army list, 
and to the satisfaction of every one, from door-tender 
to president, was stripped, shaved, dressed in uniform, 
and sent out to camp. And at the end of five minutes 
Dutlof had paid the money over, and taken his receipt ; 
and after saying good-by to the recruit and his master, 
he went to the merchant's lodging-house where the 
recruits from Pokrovsko^ were stopping. 

His nephew and the wife were sitting in one corner 
of the merchant's kitchen ; and when the old man 
came in, they ceased talking, and behaved toward him 
in a humble and yet hostile manner. 

"Don't be vexed, Ilyukha," he said, approaching 
his nephew. " Day before yesterday you said a harsh 
word to me. Am I not sorry for you? I remember 

^ starik-khozydin. 



276 POLIKUSHKA. 

how my brother commended you to my care. If it 
had been in my power, would I have let you go ? God 
granted me a piece of good fortune : you see I have 
not been mean. Here is this paper," said he, laying 
the receipt on the table, and carefully smoothing it out 
with his crooked, stiffened fingers. 

All of the Prokrovski muzhiks, and the merchant's 
people, and also some of the neighbors, came into the 
inn.^ All watched inquisitively what was going on. 
No one interrupted the old man's triumphal words. 

" Here's the paper. I paid nearly four hundred 
silver rubles for it. Don't blame your uncle ! " 

Ilyiikha stood up ; but said nothing, not knowing 
what to say. His lips trembled with emotion. His 
old mother came to him sobbing, and wanted to throw 
herself on his neck ; but the old man slowly and im- 
periously pushed her away with his hand, and pro- 
ceeded to speak : — 

" You said a harsh word to me," repeated the old 
man. *' With that word you stabbed me to the heart, 
as with a knife. Your dying father commended you 
to my care. You have taken the place of my own 
son ; but if I have done you any harm, I am sorry. 
We are all sinners. Is that not so, Orthodox be- 
lievers?" he asked, turning to the muzhiks standing 
around. "Here is your own mother, and your 
young wife ;^ here is the Jltanets for 3'ou. God bless 
it, — the money. But forgive me, for Christ's sake ! " 

And spreading his cloak out on the floor, he slowly 
got down upon his knees, and bent low before the feet 
of 113'ushka and his wife. The young people tried in 
vain to raise him : not until he had touched his head 
to the ground, did he rise, and shaking himself sit 

1 iiU)d. 2 khozyaika. 



POLIKUSIIKA. 277 

down upon the bench. Ilyushka's mother and the 
young wife wept for joy. In the crowd were heard 
voices expressing approbation. 

''That's right, tliat's God's way," said one. 

" What money? It must have taken a lot." 

*' What a joy ! " said a third. '' A righteous man, 
that's the word for it." 

But the muzhiks, who had been named as recruits, 
said nothing, and went noiselessly out into the court- 
yard. 

In two hours' time, the two Dutlofs' tely^gas drove 
through the suburbs of the city. In the first, drawn 
by the pot-bellied gray mare with sweaty neck, sat the 
old man and Ignat. Behind rattled a number of 
pretzels and crackers. In the second telyega, which 
no one drove, dignified and happy, sat the young 
wife and her mother-in-law wrapped up in shawls. 
The young woman held a jug under her apron. Ilyush- 
ka, bending over with his back to the horse, with 
ruddy face, shaking on the dasher, was munching 
a cracker ^ and talking in a steady stream. And the 
voices, and the rumble of the wheels on the bridge, 
and the occasional snorting of the horses, all united 
into one merry sound. The horses, switching their 
tails, trotted along steadily, feeling that they were on 
the home stretch. Those whom they passed and those 
whom they met looked upon a happy family. 

Just as they were leaving the city the Dutlofs over- 
took a detachment of recruits. A group of the soldiers 
stood in a circle in front of a drinking-saloon. One 
recruit, with that peculiarly unnatural expression which 
a shorn brow gives a man, with his gray uniform cap 
pushed on the back of his head, was skilfully picking 

1 kaldtch. 



278 POLIKUSEKA. 

on a three-stringed balalaika ; another, without any 
thing on his head, and holding a jng of vodka in one 
hand, was dancing in the midst of the circle. Ignat 
halted his horse, and got out to gather up the reins. 
All the Dutlofs looked on with curiosity, satisfaction, 
and joy, at the man who was dancing. 

The recruit did not seem to notice any one, but had 
the consciousness that an admiring public was at- 
tracted by his antics, and this gave him strength and 
ability. He danced dexterously. His forehead was 
wrinkled, his ruddy face was motionless, his mouth 
was parted in a smile which had long lost all expres- 
sion. It seemed as though all the energies of his soul 
were directed to making one leg follow the other with 
all possible swiftness, now on the heel and now on the 
toe. Sometimes he would suddenly stop, and signal to 
the accompanist, who would instantly begin to thrum 
on all the strings, and even to rap on the back of the 
instrument with his knuckles. The recruit stopped, but 
even when he stopped still, he seemed, as it were, to 
be all the time dancing. Suddenly he began to slacken 
his pace, shrugging his shoulders, and, leaping into the 
air, landed on his heels, and with a wild shriek set up 
the Russian national dance. 

The lads laughed, the women shook their heads, the 
lusty peasants smiled with satisfaction. An old non- 
commissioned officer stood calml}^ near the dancer with 
a look that said, "To you this is wonderful, but to us 
it's an old story.'* The balalaika-player stood up in 
plain sight, surveyed the crowd with a cool stare, 
struck a false chord, and suddenly rapped his fingers 
on the back, and the dance was done. 

"Hey! Alyokha," cried the accompanist to the 
dancer, and pointed to Dutlof. " Isn't that your 
sponsor?" 



POLIKUSHKA. 279 

'* Where? O my dearly beloved friend ! " screamed 
the recruit, — the same one whom Dutlof had bought, 
— and stumbling out on his weary feet, and lifting his 
jug of vodka above his head, he made for the team. 
"Mishka! waiter! a glass," he shouted. "Master! 
O my dear old friend! How glad I am! fact!" he 
went on, jerking his tipsy head towards the teh'^ga, 
and began to treat the muzhiks and the women to 
vodka. The muzhiks accepted, the women declined. 
'^ You are darlings, why shouldn't I treat you?" 
cried the recruit, throwing his arms around the old 
women. 

A woman peddling eatables was standing in the 
throng. The recruit saw her, grabbed her tray, and 
flung its contents into the tely^ga. 

" D-don't worry, I'll p-pay — the d-deuce," he 
began to scream in a drunken voice ; and here he drew 
out of his stocking a purse with money in it, and flung 
it to the waiter. 

He stood leaning with his elbows on the wagon, and 
stared, with moist eyes, at those who sat in it. 

"Which is my mdtushka?" he asked. "Be you 
her? I've got something for her too." 

He pondered a moment, and diving into his pocket 
brought out a new handkerchief folded, untied another 
which he had put on as a girdle under his coat, hastily 
took the red scarf from his neck, bundled them together, 
and thrust them into the old woman's lap. 

" Na ! I give 'em to you," he said, in a voice that 
grew weaker and weaker. 

" Why? thank you, friend ! — What a simple lad he 
is!" said she, addressing the old man Dutlof, who 
came up to their tely^ga. 

The recruit was now entirely quiet and dumb, and 



280 POLIKUSHKA. 

kept dropping his head lower and lower, as though he 
were going to sleep then and there. 

^' I'm going for you, I'm going to destruction for 
you," he repeated. " And so I make you a 
present." 

" I s'pose he's really got a mother," cried some one 
in the crowd. " P'ine young fellow ! Too bad ! " 

The recruit lifted his head. "I've got a mother," 
he said. '' I've got a father^ too. They've all given 
me up, though. Listen, old woman ! " he added, 
seizing Ilyushkin's mother by the hand. "I made 
you a present. Listen to me, for Christ's sake. Go 
to my village of Vodnoe, ask there for Nikonof's old 
woman, — she's my own mother, you understand, — 
and tell this same old woman, Nikonofs old woman 
— third hut at the end — new pump — tell her that 
Alyokha — your son — you know — Come ! musician, 
strike up ! " he screamed. 

And once more he began to dance, talking all the 
time, and spilling the vodka that was left in the jug 
all over the ground. 

Ignat climbed into his wagon, and started to drive 
on. 

" Good-by, good luck to you," cried the old woman, 
as she wrapped herself up in her sheepskin. 

The recruit suddenly stopped. 

"Go to the devil!" he shouted, threatening the 
teams with his doubled fist. 

" Oh, good Lord ! " ^ ejaculated Ilyushkin's mother, 
crossing herself. 

Ignat started up the mare, and the teams drove 
away. Aleks^i the recruit still stood in the middle of 
the road, and doubling up his fists, with an expressioa 

1 bcUiushka. « okh Gospodi. 




POLIKUSTIK. 

of wrath on his face, berated the mul^ 
his abiUty. 

" What are you standing here for? She's gone. 
The devil, cannibals!" he screamed. * ''You won't 
escape from me ! You devils ! You dotards ! ' * 

With these words his voice failed him ; he fell at full 
length, just where he stood in the middle of the road. 

Swiftly the Dutlofs drove across the country, and as 
they looked around, the crowd of recruits were already 
lost from sight. When they had gone five versts, and 
were slowing up a little, Ignat got out of his father's 
wagon, when the old man was drowsing, and got in 
with his cousin. 

The two young men drank up the jug of vodka which 
they had brought from the city. Then after a littl6, 
Ilya struck up a song ; the women joined in with hrni ; 
Ignat gayly shouted in harmony. A jolly party, in a 
post-wagon, dashed swiftly by. The driver shouted to 
the horses harnessed to the two jolly telyegas. The 
postiUon glanced at the handsome faces of the muzhiks 
and the women in the tely6ga as they dashed by, 
singing their merry songs, and waved his hand. 



KHOLSTOMfR 

THE HISTORY OF A HORSE } 
(1861.) 



Constantly highei and higher the sky lifted itself, 
wider and wider spread the dawn, whiter and whiter 
grew the unpolished silver of the dew, more and more 
lifeless the sickle of the moon, more vocal the forest. 
The men began to arise ; and at the stables belonging 
to the bdrin were heard with increasing frequency the 
whinnying of the horses, the stamping of hoofs on the 
straw, and also the angry, shrill neighing of the ani- 
mals collecting together, and even disputing with each 
other over something. 

'' Noo ! you got time enough ; mighty hungiy, ain't 
j^ou?" said the old drover, quickly opening the creak- 
ing gates. " Where you going? " he shouted, waving 
his hands at a mare which tried to run through the 
gate. 

Nester, the drover, was dressed in a Cossack coat,^ 
with a decorated leather belt around his waist; his 
knout was slung over his shoulder, and a handkerchief, 

1 Dedicated to the memory of M. A. Stakhovitch, the originator of the 
subject, which was given by his brother to Count Tolstoi. 

2 kazakin. 

282 



KHOLSTOMIR. 283 

containing some bread, was tied into his belt. In his 
arms he carried a saddle and halter. 

The horses were not in the least startled, nor did 
they show any resentment, at the drover's sarcastic 
tone : they made believe that it was all the same to 
them, and leisurely moved back from the gate, — all ex- 
cept one old dark-bay mare, with a long flowing mane, 
who laid back her ears and quickly turned around. At 
this opportunity a young mare, who was standing be- 
hind, and had nothing at all to do with this, whinnied, 
and began to kick at the first horse that she fell in with. 

"No!" shouted the drover still more loudly and 
angrily, and turned to the corner of the yard.^ 

Out of all the horses, — there must have been nearly 
a hundred — that were moving off toward their break- 
fast, none manifested so little impatience as a piebald 
gelding, which stood alone in one corner under the 
shed, and gazed with half-shut eyes, and bit on the 
oaken lining of the shed. 

It is hard to say what enjoyment the piebald gelding 
got from this, but his expression while doing so was 
solemn and thoughtful. 

"Nonsense!" again cried the drover in the same 
tone, turning to him ; and going up to him he laid the 
saddle and shiny blanket on a pile of manure near him. 

The piebald gelding ceased biting, and looked long 
at Nester without moving. He did not manifest any 
sign of mirth or anger or sullenness, but only drew 
in his whole belly and sighed heavily, heavily, and 
then turned away. The drover took him by the neck, 
and gave him his breakfast. 

" What are you sighing for? " asked Nester. 

The horse switched his tail as though to say, " Well, 

1 dvor. 



284 KTIOLSTOMIR. 

it's nothing, Nester.'* Nester put on the blanket and 
saddle, whereupon the horse pricked up his ears, ex- 
pressing as plainly as could be his disgust ; but he 
received nothing but execrations for this ''rot," and 
then the saddle-girth was pulled tight. 
/ At this the gelding tried to swell out ; but his mouth 
was thrust open, and a knee was pressed into his side, 
so that he was forced to let out his breath. Notwith- 
standing this, when they got the bit between his teeth, 
he still pricked back his ears, and even turned round. 
Though he knew that this was of no avail, yet he 
seemed to reckon it essential to express his displeasure, 
and always sliowed it. When he was saddled, he pawed 
with his swollen right leg, and began to champ the bit, 
— here also for some special reason, because it was full 
time for him to know that there could be no taste in 
bits. 

Nester mounted the gelding by the short stirrups, 
unwound his knout, freed his Cossack coat from .under 
his knee, settled down in the saddle in that position 
peculiar to coachmen, hunters, and drivers, and 
twitched on the reins. The gelding lifted his head, 
showing a disposition to go where he should be di- 
rected, but he stirred not from the spot. He knew 
that before he went there would be much shouting on 
the part of him who sat on his back, and man}' orders 
to be given to Vaska, the other drover, and to the 
horses. In fact Nester began to shout, ' ' Vaska ! ha, 
Vaska! have you let out any of the m^res, — hey? 
Where are you, j-ou old devil? No-o ! Are you 
asleep? Open the gate. Let the mares go first,** and 
so on. 

The gates creaked. Vaska, morose, and still full 
of sleep, holding a horse by the bridle, stood at the 



KIIOLSTOMIR. 285 

gate-post and let the horses out. The horses, one 
after the other, gingerly stepping over the straw and 
sniffing it, began to pass out, — the 3'oung fillies, the 
yeitrliugs, the little colts ; while the mares with young 
stepped along heedfully, one at a time, avoiding all 
contact. The 3'oung fillies sometimes crowded in two 
at once, three at once, throwing their heads across 
each other's backs, and hitting their hoofs against the 
gates, each time receiving a volley of abuse from the 
drovers. The colts sometimes kicked the mares whom 
they did not know, and whinnied loudl}' in answer to 
the short neighing of their mothers. 

A young filly, full of wantonness, as soon as she 
got outside the gate, tossed her head up and around, 
began to back, and whinnied, but nevertheless did not 
venture to dash ahead of the old gray, grain-bestrewed 
Zhuldiba, who, with a gentle but solid step, swinging 
her belly from side to side, was always the dignified 
leader of theother horses. 

After a few moments the lively yard was left in 
melancholy loneliness ; the posts stood out in sadness 
under the empty sheds, and only the sodden straw, 
soiled with dung, was to be seen. 

Familiar as this picture of emptiness was to the pie- 
bald getding, it seemed to have a melancholy effect 
upon him. He slowly, as though making a bow, 
lowered and lifted his head, sighed as deeply as the 
tightly drawn girth permitted, and dragging his some- 
what bent and decrepit legs, he started off after the 
herd, carrying the old Nester on his bony back. 

'' I know now. As soon as we get out on the road, 
he will go to work to make a light, and smoke his 
wooden pipe with its copper mounting and chain,*' 
thought the gelding. ''I am glad of this, because it 



286 KHOLSTOMIR. 

is early in the morning and the dew is on the grass, 
and this odor is agreeable to me, and brings up many 
pleasant recollections. I am sorry only that when the 
old man has his pipe in his mouth he . always becomes 
excited, gets to imagining things, and sits on one side, 
far over on one side, and on that side it always hurts. 
However, God be with him. It's no new thing for me 
to suffer for the sake of others. I have even come to 
find some equine satisfaction in this. Let him play 
that he's cock of the walk, poor fellow ; but it's for 
his own pleasure that he looks so big, since no one 
sees him at all. Let him ride sidewise," said the horse 
to himself ; and, stepping gingerly on his crooked legs, 
he walked along the middle of the road. 



i-. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 287 



II. 

After driving the herd down to the river, near 
which the horses were to graze, Nester dismounted and 
took off the saddle. Meantime the herd began slowly 
to scatter over the as yet untrodden field, covered 
with dew and with vapor rising alike from the damp 
meadow and the river that encircled it. 

Taking off the blanket from the piebald gelding, 
Nester scratched him on his neck ; and the horse in 
reply expressed his happiness and satisfaction by shut- 
ting his eyes. 

*' The old dog likes it," said Nester. 

The gelding really did not like this scratching very 
much, and only out of delicacy' intimated that it was 
agreeable to him. He shook his head as a sign of 
assent. But suddenly, unexpectedly, and without any 
reason, Nester, imagining perhaps that too great famil- 
iarity might give the horse false ideas about what he 
meaut, — Nester, without auy warning, pushed away 
his head, and, lifting up the bridle, struck the horse 
very severely with the buckle on his bare leg, and, 
without saying any thing, went up the hillock to a 
stump, near which he sat down as though nothing had 
happened. 

Though this proceeding incensed the gelding, he did 
not manifest it ; and leisurely switching his thin tail, 
and sniffing at something, and merely for recreation 
cropping at the grass, he wandered down toward the 
river. 



288 KHOLSTOMIR. 

Not paying any heed to the antics played around 
him by the young fillies, the colts, and the yearlings, 
and knowing that the health of everybody, and espe- 
cially one who had attained his years, was subserved 
by getting a good drink of water on an empty stomach, 
and then eating, he turned his steps to where the bank 
was less steep and slippery ; and wetting his hoofs and 
gambrels, he thrust his snout into the river, and began 
to suck the water through his lips drawn back, to puff 
with his distending sides, and out of pure satisfaction 
to switch his thin, piebald tail with its leatheiy stump. 

A chestnut filly, always mischievous, always nag- 
* g^"o the old horse, and causing him manifold unpleas- 
antnesses, came down to the water as though for her 
own necessities, but really merely for the sake of 
roiling the water in front of his nose. 

But the gelding had already drunk enough, and 
apparently %giving no thought to the impudent mare, 
calmly put one miry leg before the other, shook his 
head, and, turning aside from the wanton youngster, 
began to eat. Dragging his legs in a peculiar manner, 
and not tramping down the abundant grass, the horse 
grazed for nearly three hours, scarcely stirring from 
the spot. Having eaten so much that his belly hung 
down like a bag from his thin, sharp ribs, he stood 
solidly on his four weak legs, so that as little strain as 
possible might come on any one of them, — at least on 
the right foreleg, which was weaker than all, — and 
went to sleep. 

There is an honorable old age, there is a miserable 
old age, there is a pitiable old age ; there is also an old 
age that is both honorable and miserable. The old age 
which the piebald gelding had reached was of this 
latter sort. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 289 

The old horse was of a great size, — more than 
seventeen hands high.^ His color was white, spotted 
with black ; at least, it used to be so, but now the 
black spots had changed to a dirty brown. The regions 
of black spots were three in number : one on the head, 
including the mane, and side of the nose, the star on 
the forehead, and half of the neck ; the long mane, 
tangled with burrs, was striped white and brownish; 
the second spotted place ran along the right side, and 
covered half the belly ; the third was on the flank, 
including the upper part of the tail and half of the 
loins ; the rest of the tail was whitish, variegated. 

The huge, corrugated head, with deep hollows under 
the eyes, and with pendent black lips, somewhat 
lacerated, sat heavily and draggingl}- on the neck, 
which bent under its leanness, and seemed to be 
made of wood. From under the pendent lip could 
be seen the dark-red tongue protruding on one side, 
and the yellow, worn tusks of his lower teeth. His 
ears, one of which was slit, fell over side wise, and 
only occasionally he twitched them a little to scare 
away the sticky flies. One long tuft still remaining of 
the forelock hung behind the ears ; the broad forehead 
was hollowed and rough ; the skin hung loose on the 
big cheek-bones. On the neck and head the veins 
stood out in knots, trembling and twitching whenever 
a fl}' touched them. The expression of his face was 
sternly patient, deeply thoughtful, and expressive of 
pain. 

His forelegs were crooked at the knees. On both 
hoofs were swellings ; and on the one which was half 
covered by the marking, there was near the knee at 
the back a sore boil. The hind legs were in better 

1 Two arshiiit three vershoka, = 6.65 feet. 



290 KHOLSTOMIR. 

condition, but there had been severe bruises long be- 
fore on the haunches, and the hair did not grow on 
those places. His legs seemed disproportionately long, 
because his body was so emaciated. His ribs, though 
also thick, were so exposed and drawn that the hide 
seemed dried in the hollows between them. 

The back and withers were variated with old scars, 
and behind was still a freshly galled and purulent 
slough. The black stump of the tail, where the ver- 
tebrae could be counted, stood out long and almost 
bare. On the brown flank near the tail, where it was, 
overgrown with white hairs, was a scar as big as one*^ 
hand, that must have been from a bite. Another 
cicatrice was to be seen on the off shoulder. The 
houghs of the hind legs and the tail were foul with 
excrement. The hair all over the body, though short, 
stood out straight. 

But in spite of the filthy old age to which this horse 
had come, any one looking at him would have involun- 
tarily thought, and a connoisseur would have said 
immediately, that he must have been in his day a 
remarkably fine horse. The connoisseur would have 
said also that there was only one breed in Russia ^ that 
could give such broad bones, such huge joints, such 
hoofs, such slender leg-bones, such an arched neck, 
and, most of all, such a skull,- — eyes large, black, 
and brilliant, and such a thoroughbred network of 
nerves over his head and neck, and such delicate skin 
and hair. 

In reality there was something noble in the form of 
this horse, and in the terrible union in him of the 
repulsive signs of decrepitude, the increased varie- 
gatedness of his hide, and his actions, and the expres- 

i The best breed of Russian horses is that of the Griefs. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 291 

sion of self-dependence, and the calm consciousness 
of beauty and strength. 

Like a living ruin he stood in the middle of the 
dewy field, alone ; while not far away from him were 
heard the galloping, the neighing, the lively whinnying, 
the snorting, of the scattered herd. 



292 KHOLSTOMIR. 



m. 



The siin was now risen above the"^ forest, and shone 
brightly on the grass and the winding river. The dew 
dried away and fell off in drops. Like smoke the last 
of the morning mist rolled up. Curly clouds made 
their appearance, but as 3'et there was no wind. On 
the other side of the gleaming river stood the rye, 
bending on its stalks, and the air was fragrant with 
bright verdure and the flowers. The cuckoo cooed 
from the forest with echoing voice ; and Nester, 
lying flat on his back, was reckoning up how many 
years of life lay before him. The larks arose from 
the. rye and the field. The' belated hare stood up 
among the horses and leaped without restraint, and 
sat down by the copse and pricked up his ears to 
listen. 

Vaska went to sleep, burying his head in the grass ; 
the mares, making wide circuits around him, scattered 
themselves on the field below. The older ones, neigh- 
ing, picked out a shining track across the dewy grass, 
and constantly tried to find some place where they 
might be undisturbed. They no longer grazed, but 
only nibbled on the sweet grass-blades. The whole 
herd was imperceptibly moving in one direction. 

And again the old Zhuldiba, stately stepping before 
the others, showed how far it was possible to go. 
The young Mushka, who had cast her first foal, con- 
stantly hinnying, and lifting her tail, was scolding 



KHOLSrOMIR. 293 

her violet-colored colt. The young Atldsnaya, with 
smooth and shining skin, dropping her head so that 
her black and silken forelock hid her forehead and 
eyes, was gambolling in the grass, nipping and tossing 
and stamping her leg, with its hairy fetlock. One of 
the older little colts, — he must have been imagining 
some kind of game, — lifting, for the twenty-sixth 
time, his rather short and tangled tail, like a plume^^ 
gambolled around his dam, who calmly picked at the 
herbage, having evidently had time to sum up her son's 
character, and only occasionally stopping to look 
askance at him out of her big black eye. 

One of these same young colts, — black as a coal, 
with a large head with a marvellous top-knot rising 
above his ears, and his tail still inclining to the side 
on which he had laid in his mother's belly — pricking 
up his ears, and opening his stupid 'eyes, as he stood 
motionless in his place, looked steadily at the colt 
jumping and dancing, n'ot at all understanding why he 
did it, whether out of jealousy or indignation. 

Some suckle, butting with their noses ; others, for 
some unknown reason, notwithstanding their mothers' 
invitation, move along -in a short, awkward trot, in a 
diametrically opposite direction, as though seeking 
something, and then, no one knows why, stop short 
and hinny in a desperately' penetrating voice. Some 
lie on their sides in a row ; some take lessons in graz- 
ing ; some try to scratch themselves with their hind 
legs behind the ear. 

Two mares, still with young, go off by themselves, 
and slowly moving their legs continue to graze. Evi- 
dently their condition is respected by the others, and 
none of the young colts ventures to go near or disturb 
them. If any saucy young steed takes it into his head 



294 KHOLSTOMIR. 

to approach too near to them, then merely a motion of 
an ear or tail is sufficient to show him all the impro- 
priety of his behavior. 

The yearlings and the young fillies pretend to be 
full-grown and dignified, and rarely indulge in pranks, 
or join their gay companions. They ceremoniously 
nibble at the blades of grass, bending their swan-like, 
short-shorn necks, and, as though they also were blessed 
with tails, switch their little brushes. Just like the big 
horses, some of them lie down, roll over, and scratch 
each others' backs. 

A very jolly band consists of the two-year-old and 
the three-year-old mares who have never foaled. They 
almost all wander off by themselves, and make a 
specially jolly virgin throng. Among them is heard a 
great tramping and stamping, hinuying and whinnying. 
They gather together, lay their heads over each others* 
shoulders, snuff the air, leap ; and sometimes, lifting 
the tail like an oriflamme, proudly and coquettishly, iu 
a half-trot, half -gallop, caracole in front of their com- 
panions. 

Conspicuous for beauty and sprightly dashing ways, 
among all this young throng, was the wanton bay 
mare. Whatever she set on foot, the others also did ; 
wherever she went, there in her track followed also 
the whole throng of beauties. 

The wanton was in a specially playful frame of mind 
this morning. The spirit of mischief was in her, just 
as it sometimes comes upon men. Even at the river- 
side, playing her pranks upon the old gelding, she had 
galloped along in the water, pretending that something 
had scared her, snorting, and then dashed off at full 
speed across the field ; so that Vaska was constrained to 
gallop after her, and after the others who wer-e at her 



KHOLSTOMIR. 295 

heels. Then, after grazing a little while, she began to 
roll, then to tease the old mares, by dashing in front 
of them. Then she separated a suckling colt from 
its dam, and began to chase after it, pretending that 
she wanted to bite it. The mother was frightened, 
and ceased to graze ; the little colt squealed in piteous 
tones. But the wanton young mare did not touch it,' 
but only scared it, and made a spectacle for her com- 
rades, who looked with sympathy on her antics. 

Then she set out to turn the head of the roan horse, 
which a muzhik, far away on the other side of the river, 
was driving with a plough in the rye-field. She stood 
proudly, somewhat on one side, lifting her head high, 
shook herself, and neighed in a sweet, significant, and 
alluring voice. 

'Tis the time when the rail-bird, running from place 
to place among the thick reeds, passionately calls his 
mate ; when also the cuckoo and the quail sing of love ; 
and the flowers send to each other, on the breeze, their 
aromatic dust. 

"And I am young and kind and strong," said the 
jolly wanton's neighing, " and till now it has not been 
given to me to experience the sweetness of this feel- 
ing, never yet to feel it ; and no lover, no, not one, has 
yet come to woo me." 

And the significant neighing rang with youthful 
melancholy over lowland and field, and it came to the 
ears of the roan horse far away. He pricked up his 
ears, and stopped. The muzhik kicked him with his 
wooden shoe ; but the roan was bewitched by th e silv :er_ 
^ound of the distant neighing, and whinnied in reply. 
The muzhik grew angry, twitched him with the reins, 
and again kicked him in the belly with his bast shoe, 
so that he did not have a chance to complete all that 



296 KHOLSTOMIR. 

he had to say in his neighing, but was forced to go on 
his way. And the roan horse felt a sweet sadness in 
his heart; and the sounds from the far-off r^-e-field, 
of that unfinished and passionate neigh, and the angry 
voice of the muzhik, long echoed in the ears of the~ 
herd. 

If through one sound of her voice the roan horse 
could become so captivated as to forget his duty, what 
would have become of him if he had had full view of 
the beautiful wanton, as she stood pricking up her 
ears, inflating her nostrils, breathing in the air, and 
filled with longing, while her young and beauteous 
body trembled as she called to him ? 

But the wanton did not long ponder over her novel 
sensations. When the voice of the roan was still, she 
whinnied scornfully, and, sinking her head, began to 
paw the ground ; and then she trotted off to wake up 
and tease the piebald gelding. The piebald gelding 
was a long-suffering butt for the amusement of this 
happy young wanton. She made him suffer more than 
men did. But in neither case did he give way to 
wrath. He was indispensable to men, but why should 
these young horses torment him? 



KflOLSTOMIR. 297 



IV. 



He was old, they were young ; he was lean, they 
were fat; he was sad, they were happy. So he was 
thoroughly strange, alien, an absolutely different crea- 
ture ; and it was impossible for them to have compas- 
sion on him. Horses have pity only on themselves, 
and rarely on those whose places they may easily come 
themselves to fill. But, indeed, was not the piebald 
gelding himself to blame, that he was old and gaunt 
and crippled? . . . 

One would think that he was not to blame. But in 
equine ethics he was, and only those were right who 
were strong, young, and happy ; those who had all life 
before them ; those whose every muscle was tense with 
superfluous energy, and curled their tails into a wheel. 

Maybe the piebald gelding himself understood this, 
and in tranquil moments was agreed that he was to 
blame because he had lived out all his life, that he 
must pay for his life ; but he was aifter all only a 
horse, and he could not restrain himself often from 
feeling hurt, melancholy, and discontented, when he 
looked on all these young horses who tormented him 
for the very thing to which they would be subjected 
when they came to the end of their lives. 

The reason for the heartlessness of these horses was 
a peculiarly aristocratic feeling. Every one of them 
was related, either on the side of father or mother, to 
the celebrated Smetanka ; but it was not known from 



298 EHOLSTOMTR. 

what stock the piebald gelding sprang. The gelding 
was a chance comer, bought at market three years 
before for eighty paper rubles. 

The young chestnut mare, as though accidentally 
wandering about, came up to the piebald gelding's 
very nose, and brushed against him. He knew before- 
hand what it meant, and did not open his eyes, but laid 
back his ears and showed his teeth. The mare wheeled 
around, and made believe that she was going to let 
fly at him with her heels. He opened his eyes, and 
wandered off to another part. He had no desire to 
sleep, and began to crop the grass. Again the wanton 
young mare, accompanied by her confederates, went 
to the gelding. A two-year-old mare with a star on 
her forehead, very stupid, always in mischief, and 
always ready to imitate the chestnut mare, trotted 
along with her, and, as imitators always do, began to • 
play the same trick that the instigator had done. 

The brown mare marched along at an ordinary gait, 
as though bent on her own affairs, and passed by the 
gelding's very nose, not looking at him, so that he 
really did not know whether to be angry or not ; and 
this- was the very fun of the thing. 

This was what she did ; but the starred mare follow- 
ing in her steps, and feeling very gay, hit the gelding 
on the chest. He showed his teeth once more, whin- 
nied, and, with a quickness of motion unexpected on 
his part, sprang at the mare, and bit her on the flank. 
The young mare with the star flew out with her hind 
legs, and kicked the old horse heavily on his thin bare 
ribs. The old horse uttered a hoarse noise, and was 
about to make another lunge, but thought better of it, 
and sighing deeply turned away. 

It must have been that all the young horses of the 



; KHOLSTOMIR. 299 

drove regarded as a personal insult the boldness which 
the piebald gelding permitted himself to show toward 
the starred mare ; for all the rest of the day they gave 
him no chance to graze, and left him not a moment of 
peace, so that the drover several times rebuked them, 
and could not comprehend what they were doing. 

The gelding was so abused that he himself walked 
up to Nester when it was time for the old man to drive 
back the drove, and he showed greater happiness and 
, content when Nester saddled him and mounted him. 

God knows what the old gelding's thoughts were 
as he bore on his back the old man Nester. Did he 
think with bitterness of these importunate and merci- 
less youngsters? or, with a scornful and silent pride 
peculiar to old age, did he pardon his persecutors? 
At all events, he did not make manifest any of his 
thoughts till he reached home. 

That evening some cronies had come to see Nester ; 
and as the horses were driven by the huts of the domes- 
tics, he noticed a horse and telyega standing at his 
doorstep. After he had driven in the horses, he was 
in such a hurry that he did not take the saddle off : he 
left the gelding at the yard,^ and shouted to Vaska to 
unsaddle the animal, then shut the gate, and hurried 
to his friends. 

Perhaps owing to the affront put upon the starred 
mare, the descendant of Smetanka, by that '' low 
trash " bought for a horse, and not knowing father or 
mother, and therefore offending the aristocratic senti- 
ment of the whole community ; or because the gelding 
with the high saddle without a rider presented a 
strangely fantastic spectacle for the horses, — at all 
events, that night something extraordinary took place 

* dvor. 



300 KIIOLSTOMTR. 

in the paddock. All the horses, young and old, show- 
ing their teeth, tagged after the gelding, and drove him 
from one part of the yard to the other ; the trampling 
of their hoofs echoed around him as he sighed and 
drew in his thin sides. 

The geldiug could not longer endure this, could not 
longer avoid their kicks. He halted in the middle of 
the field : his face expressed the repulsive, weak anger 
of helpless old age, and despair besides. He laid 
back his ears, and suddenly^ something happened that 
caused all the horses suddenly ^ to become quiet. A 
very old mare, Viazopurikha, came up and sniffed the 
gelding, and sighed. The gelding also sighed. 

1 So in the original. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 301 



V. 



In the middle of the yard, flooded with the moon- 
light, stood the tall, gaunt figure of the gelding, still 
wearing the high saddle with its prominent pommel. 
The horses, motionless and in deep silence, stood 
around him, as though they were learning something 
new and extraordinary from him. And, indeed, some- 
thing new and extraordinary they learned from him. 

This is what they learned from him : — 



FIRST NIGHT. 

*yres, I was sired by Liubezni I. Baba was my 
dam. According to the genealogy mj^ name is Muzhik 
I. Muzhik I., I am according to my pedigree; but 
generally I am known as Kholstomir, on account of a 
long and glorious gallop, the like of which never to3lH^ 
place in Russia. In lineage no horse in the world 
stands higher than I, for good blood. I would never 
have told you this. Why should I? You would never 
have known me as Viazopiirikha knew me when we 
used to be together at Khrenova, and who only just 
now recognized me. You would not have believed me 
had it not been for Viazopurikha's witness, and I 
would never have told you this. I do not need the 
pity of my kind. But you insisted upon it. Well, I 
am that Kholstomir whom the amateurs are seeking 



302 KHOLSTOMTR. 

for and cannot find, that Kholstomir whom the count 
himself named, and whom he let go from his stud 
because I outran his favorite ' Lebedi.' 



'' When I was born I did not know what they meant 
when they called me a piebald ; ^ I thought that I was 
a horse. The first remark made about my hide, I 
remember, deeply surprised me and my dam. 

*' I must have been foaled in the night. In the morn- 
ing, licked clean by my dam's tongue, I stood on my 
legs. I remember all m}' sensations, and that every 
thing seemed to me perfectly wonderful, and, at the 
same time, perfectly simple. Our stalls were in a 
long, warm corridor, with latticed gates, through which 
nothing could be seen. 

" My dam tempted me to suckle ; but I was so inno- 
cent as yet that I bunted her with my nose, now under 
her fore-legs, now in other places. Suddenly my dam 
gazed at the latticed gate, and, throwing her leg over 
me, stepped to one side. One of the grooms was 
looking in at us through the lattice. 

" ' See, Baba has foaled ! ' he exclaimed, and began 
to draw the bolt. He came in over the straw bed, and 
took me up in his arms. ' Come and look, Taras ! ' 
he cried ; ' see what a piebald colt, a perfect magpie ! ' 

"I tore myself away from him, and fell on my 
knees. 

" ' See, a perfect little devil ! ' he said. 

" My dam became disquieted ; but she did not take 
my part, and merely drew a long, long breath, and 
stepped to one side. The grooms came, and began to 
look at me. One ran to tell the equerry. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 303 

* 
*'A11 laughed as they looked at my spotting, and 

gave me various odd names. I did not understand 

these names, nor did my dam either. Up to that time 

in all my family there had never been a single piebald 

known. We had no idea that there was any thing 

disgraceful in it. And then all examined my structure 

and strength. 

" ' See what a lively one ! " said the hostler. ' You 
can't hold him.* 

"In a little while came the equerry, and began to 
marvel at my coloring. He also seemed disgusted. 

'' ' What a nasty beast ! ' he cried. ' The general 
will not keep him in the stud. Ekh ! Baba, you have 
caused me much trouble,' he said, turning to my dam. 
* You ought to have foaled a colt with a star, but this 
is completely piebald.' • 

'' My dam vouchsafed no answer, and, as always in 
such circumstances, merely sighed again. 

'' 'What kind of a devil was his sire? A regular 
muzhik ! ' he went on to say. ' It is impossible to 
keep him in the stud ; it's a shame ! But we'll see, 
we'll see,' said he ; and all said the same as they 
looked at me. 

*' After a few days the general himself came. He 
took a look at me, and again all seemed horror-struck, 
and scolded me and my mother also on account of my 
hide. ' But we'll see, we'll see,' said every one, as 
soon as they caught sight of me. 

'' Until spring we. young colts lived in separate cells 
with our dams ; onl}^ occasionally, when the snow on 
the roof of the sheds began to melt in the sun, they 
would let us out into the wide yard, spread with fresh 
straw. There for the first time I became acquainted 
with all my kin, near and remote. There I saw how 



304 KHOLSTOMIR. 

from different doors issued all the famous mares of 
that time with their colts. There was the old Hol- 
land mare, Mushka, sired by Smetankin, Krasnukha, 
the saddle-horse Dobrokhotikha, all celebrities at that 
time. All gathered together there with their colts, 
walked up and down in the sunshine, rolled over on 
the fresh straw, and sniffed of each other like ordinary 
horses. 

" I cannot even now forget the sight of that paddock, 
full of the beauties of that day. It may seem strange 
to you to think of me as ever having been young and 
frisky, but I used to be. This very same Viazopurikha 
was there then, a yearling, whose mane had just been 
cut,^ — a kind, jolly, frolicsome little horse. But let it 
not be taken as unkindly meant when I say, that, though 
she is now considered a rarity among you on account 
of her pedigree, then she was only one of the meanest 
horses of that stud. She herself will corroborate this. 

*' Though my coat of many colors had been displeas- 
ing to the men, it was exceedingly attractive to all the 
horses. They all stood round me, expressing their 
delight, and frisking with me. I even began to forget 
the words of the men about my hide, and felt happy. 
But I soon experienced the first sorrow of my life, and 
the cause of it was my dam. As soon as it began to 
thaw, and the swallows chirped on the roof, and the 
spring made itself felt more and more in the air, *my 
dam began to change in her behavior toward me. 

'' Her whole character was transformed. Suddenly, 
without any reason, she began to frisk, galloping 
around the yard, which certainly did not accord with 
her dignified growth ; then she would pause and con- 
sider, and begin to whinny ; then she would bite and 

1 All expressed iu the word strigunchik. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 305 

kick her sister mares ; then she began to smell of me, 
and neigh with dissatisfaction ; then trotting out into 
the sun she would lay her head across the shoulder of 
my two-year-old sister Kiipchika, and long and ear- 
nestly scratch her back, and push me away from nurs- 
ing her. One time the equerry came, commanded the 
halter to be put on her, and they led her out 9f the 
paddock. She whinnied ; I replied to her, and darted 
after her, but she would not even look at me. The 
groom Taras seized me in both arms, just as tliey shut 
the door on my mother's retreating form. 

"I struggled, threw the groom on th-j straw ; but the 
door was closed, and I only heard my mother's whin- 
nying growing fainter and fainter. And in this whin- 
nying I perceived that she called not for me, but I 
perceived a very different expression. In reply to her 
voice, there was heard in the distance a mighty voice. 

" I don't remember how Taras got out of my stall ; 
it was too grievous for me. I felt that I had forever 
lost my mother's love ; and wholly because I was a 
piebald, I said to mj^self, remembering what the peo- 
ple said of my hide ; and such passionate anger came 
over me, that I began to pound the sides of the stall 
with my head and feet, and I pounded them until the 
sweat poured from me, and I could not stand up from 
exhaustion. 

" After some time my dam returned to me. I heard 
her as she came along the corridor in a prancing trot, 
wholly unusual to her, and entered our stall. The 
door was opened for her. I did not recognize her, 
so much younger and handsomer had she grown. She 
snuffed at me, neighed, and began to snort. But in 
her whole expression I could see that she did not 
love me. 



306 KHOLSTOMIR. 

*' Soon the}' led us to pasture. I now began to expe- 
rience new pleasures which consoled me for the loss 
of my mother's love. I had friends and companions. 
We learned together to eat grass, to neigh like the old 
horses, and to lift our tails and gallop in wide circles 
around our dams. This was a happy time. Every 
thing was forgiven to me ; all loved me, and were 
loved by me, and looked indulgently on all that I did. 
This did not last long. 

*' Here something terrible happened to me." 

The gelding sighed deeply, deeply, and moved aside 
from the horses. 

The dawn was already far advanced. The gates 
creaked. Nester came. The horses scattered. The 
drover straightened the saddle on the gelding's back, 
and drove away the horses. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 307 



VI. 

SECOND NIGHT. 

As soon as the horses were driven in, they once 
more gathered around the piebald. 

"In the month of August," continued the horse, 
" I was separated from my mother, and I did not ex- 
perience any unusual grief. I saw that she was already 
suckling a small brother, — the famous Usan, — and I 
was not what I had been before. I was not jealous, 
but I felt that I had become more than ever cool 
toward her. Besides, I knew that in leaving my 
mother I should be transferred to the general division 
of young horses, where we were stalled in twos and 
threes, and every day all went out to exercise. 

I was in one stall with Milui. Milui was a saddle- 
horse, and afterwards belonged to the emperor himself, 
and was put into pictures and statuary. At that time he 
was a mere colt, with a shiny soft coat, a swan-like neck, 
and slender straight legs. He was always lively, good- 
natured, and lovable ; was alwa3's ready to frisk, and 
be caressed, and sport with either horse or man. He 
and I could not help being good friends, living together 
as we did ; and our friendship lasted till we grew up. 
He was gay, and inclined to be wanton. Even then 
he began to feel the tender passion to disport with the 
fillies, and he used to make sport of my guilelessness. 
To my uuhappiuess I myself, out of egotism, tried to 



308 KHOLSTOMIR. 

follow his example, and very soon was in love. And 
this early inclination of mine was the cause, in great 
measure, of my fate. 

" But I am not going to relate all the story of my 
unhappy first love ; she herself remembers my stupid 
passion, which ended for me in the most important 
change in my life. 

" The drovers came along, drove her away, and 
pounded me. In the evening they led me into a 
special stall. I whinnied the whole night long, as 
though with a presentiment of what was coming on the 
morrow. 

••' In the morning the general, the equerry, the under 
grooms, and the hostlers came into the corridor where 
my stall was, and set up a terrible screaming. The 
general screamed to the head groom ; the groom justi- 
fied himself, saying that he had not given orders to 
send me away, but that the under grooms had done it 
of their own free will. The general said that it had 
spoiled every thing, but that it was impossible to keep 
young stallions. The head groom replied that he 
would have it attended to. They calmed down and 
went out. I did not understand it at all, — except 
that something concerning me was under considera- 
tion. 



" On the next day I had ceased forever to whinny ; 
I became what I am now. All the light of my eyes 
was quenched. Nothing seemed sweet to me ; I be- 
came self-absorbed, and began to be pensive. At first 
I felt indifferent to every thing. I ceased even to eat, 
to drink, and to run ; and all thought of sprightly 
sport was gone. Then it nevermore came into my 



((uNIVKKSi'i V,J 

KHOLSTOMIR. 309 

mind to kick up my heels, to roll over, to whinny, 
without bringing up the terrible question, 'Why? for 
what purpose ? ' And my vigor died away. 

"Once they led me out at eventide, at the time 
when they were driving the stud home from the field. 
From afar I saw already the cloud of dust in which 
could be barely distinguished the familiar lineaments 
of all of our mothers. I heard the cheerful snorting, 
and the trampling of hoofs. I stopped short, though 
the halter-rope b}^ which the groom held me cut my 
neck ; and I gazed at the approaching drove as one 
gazes at happiness that is lost forever and will ne'er 
return again. They drew near, and my eyes fell upon 
forms so well known to me, — beautiful, grand, plump, 
full of life every one. Who among them all deigned 
to glance at me ? I did not feel the pain that the groom 
in pulling the rope inflicted. I forgot myself, and in- 
voluntarily tried to whinny as of yore, and to gallop 
off ; but my whinnying sounded melancholy, ridicu- 
lous, and unbecoming. There was no ribaldry among 
the stud, but I noticed that many of them from 
politeness turned away from me. 

" It was evident that in their eyes I was despicable 
and pitiable, and worst of all ridiculous. My slender, 
weakly neck, my big head (I had become thin), my 
long, thick legs, and the awkward gait that I struck 
up, in my old fashion, around the groom, all must have 
seemed absurd to them. No one heeded my whinny- 
ing, all turned away from me. 

" Suddenly .^I comprehended it all, comprehended 
how I was forever sundered from them, every one ; 
and I know not how I stumbled home behind the 
groom. 

*' I had already shown a tendency toward gravity and 



310 KHOLSTOMIR. 

thoughtf uiness ; but now a decided change came over 
me. My variegated coat, which occasioned such a 
strange prejudice in men, my terrible and unexpected 
unhappiness, and, moreover, my peculiarly isolated 
position in the stud — which I felt, but could never 
explain to myself — compelled me to turn my thoughts 
inward upon myself. I pondered on the disgust that 
people showed when they berated me for being a pie- 
bald ; I pondered on the inconstancy of maternal and 
especially of female atfection, and its dependence upon 
physical conditions ; and, above all, I pondered on the 
characteristics of that strange race of mortals with 
whom we are so closely bound, and whom we call 
men, — those characteristics which were the source of 
the peculiarity of m^' position in the stud, felt by me 
but incomprehensible. 

"The significance of this, peculiarity, and of the 
human characteristics on which it was based, was 
discovered to me by the following incident : — 

" It was winter, at Christmas-tide. All day long 
no fodder had been given to me, nor had I been led 
out to water. I afterwards learned that this arose 
from our groom being drunk. On this day the equerry 
came to me, saw that I had no food, and began to use 
hard language about the missing groom, and went 
^way. 

"On the next day, the groom with his mates came 
out to our stalls to give us some hay. I noticed that 
he was especially pale and glum, and in the expres- 
sion of his long back there was a something significant 
and demanding sympathy. 

" He austerely flung the hay behind the grating. I 
laid my head over his shoulder ; but he struck me s«ch 
a hard blow with his fist on the nose, that I started 



KnOLSTOMIR. 311 

back. Then he kicked me in the belly with his 
boot. 

'* * If it hadn't been for this scurvy beast,' said he, 
'there wouldn't have been any trouble.' 

" ' Why? ' asked another groom. 

" ' He doesn't come to inquire about the count's^ 
you bet ! But twice a day he comes out to look after 
his own.* 

*' ' Have they given him the piebald?' inquired 
another. 

'^ ' Whether they've given it to him or sold it to him, 
the dog only knows ! The count's might die o' starva- 
tion — it wouldn't make any difference ; but see how 
it upset him when I didn't give his horse his fodder ! 
' Go to bed,' says he, ' and then you'll get a basting.' 
No Christianity in it. More pity on the cattle than on 
a man. I don't believe he's ever been christened, he 
himself counted the blows, the barbarian ! The general 
did not use the whip so. He made my back all welts. 
There's no soul of a Christian in him ! ' 

'' Now, what they said about whips and Christianity, 
I understood well enough ; but it was perfectly dark 
to me as to the meaning of the words, my horse, his 
horse, by which I perceived that men understood some 
sort of bond between me and the groom. Wherein 
consisted this bond, I could not then understand at 
all. Only long after, when I was separated from the 
other horses, I came to learn what it meant. At that 
time I could not understand at all that it meant that 
they considered me the property of a man. To say 
my horse in reference to me, a live horse, seemed to 
me as strange as to say, my earth, my atmosphere, my 
water. 

'* But these words liad a monstrous influence upon me. 



312 KHOLSTOMIR. 

I pondered upon them ceaselessly ; and only after long 
and varied relations with men did I come at last to 
comprehend the meaning that men find in these strange 
words. 

" The meaning is this : Men rule in life, not by deeds, 
but by words. They love not so much the possibility 
of doing or not doing any thing, as the possibility of 
talking about different objects in words agreed upon 
between them. Such words, considered very important 
among them, are the words, my^ mine^ ours, which they 
employ for various things, beings, and objects ; even 
for the earth, people, and horses. In regard to any 
particular thing, the}^ agree that only one person shall 
say 'It is mine.' And he who in this play, which they 
engage in, can say mine in regard to the greatest num- 
ber of things, is considered the most fortunate among 
them. Why this is so, I know not ; but it is sa. 
Long before, I had tried to explain this to my satis- 
faction, by some direct advantage ; but it seemed that 
I was wrong. 

"Many of the men who, for instance, called me their 
horse, did not ride on me, but entirely different men 
rode on me. They themselves did not feed me, but 
entirely different people fed me. Again, it was not 
those who called me their horse who treated me kindly, 
but the coachman, the veterinary, an,d, as a general 
thing, outside men. 

" Afterwards, as I widened the sphere of my experi- 
ences, I became convinced that the concept m?/, as 
applied not only to us horses, but to other things, has 
no other foundation than a low and animal, a human 
instinct, which they call the sentiment or right of prop- 
erty. Man says, my house, and never lives in it, but 
is only cumbered with the building and maintenance of 



KHOLSTOMIR. 313 

it. The merchant says, my shop, — my clothing-shop, 
for example, — and he does not even wear clothes 
made of the best cloth in the shop. 

'' There are people who call land theirs, and have 
never seen their land, and have never been on it. 
There are men who call other people theirs, but have 
never seen these people ; and the whole relationship of 
these owners, to these people, consists in doing them 
harm. 

" There are men who call women theirs, — their wives 
or mistresses ; but these women live with other men. 
And men struggle in life not to do what they consider 
good, but to be possessors of what they call their own. 

''1 am convinced now that herein lies the substantial 
difference between men and us. And, therefore, not 
speaking of other things, where we are superior to 
men, we are able boldly to say that in this one respect 
at least, we stand, in the scale of living beings, higher 
than men. The activity of men — at all events, of 
those with whom I have had to do — is guided by 
words ; ours, by deeds. 

'' And here the head groom obtained this right to say 
about me, my horse ; and hence he lashed the hostler. 
This discovery deeply disturbed me ; and those thoughts 
and opinions which my variegated coat aroused in men, 
and the thoughtfulness aroused in me by the change in 
my mother, together subserved to make me into that 
solemn and contemplative gelding that. I am. 

'' I was threefold unhappy : I was piebald ; I was a 
gelding ; and men imagined that I did not belong to 
God and myself, as is the prerogative of every living 
thing, but that I belonged to the equerry. 

" The consequences of their imagining this about me 
were many. The fii'st was, that they kept me apart 



314 KHOLSTOMIR. 

from the others, fed me better, led me more often, and 
harnessed me up earlier. They harnessed me first 
when I was in my third 3-ear. I remember the first 
time, the equerry himself, who imagined that I was 
his, began, with a crowd of grooms, to harness me, 
expecting from me some ebullition of temper or 
contrariness. They put leather straps on me, and 
conducted me into the stalls. They laid on my back 
a wide leather cross, and attached it to the thills, so 
that I should not kick ; but I was only waiting an 
opportunity to show my gait, and my love for 
work. 

" They marvelled because I went like an old horse. 
They began to drive me, and I began to practise 
trotting. Every day I made greater and greater im- 
provement, so that in three months the general him- 
self, and many others, praised my gait. But this was 
a strange thing : for the very reason that they imagined 
that I was the equerry's, and not theirs, my gait had 
for them an entirely different significance. 

" The stallions, my brothers, were put through their 
paces ; their time was reckoned ; people came to see 
them ; they were driven in gilded drozhkies. Costly 
saddles were put upon them. But I was driven in the 
equerry's simple drozhkies, when he had business at 
Chesmenka and other manor-houses. All this re- 
sulted from the fact that I was piebald, but more than 
all from the fact that I was, according to their idea, 
not the property of the count, but of the equerry. 

"To-morrow, if we are alive, I will tell you what 
a serious influence upon me was exercised by this 
right of proprietorship which the equerry arrogated to 
himself." 

All that day the horses treated Kholstomir with great 



KH0L8T0MIR. 315 

consideration ; but Nester, from old custom, rode him 
into the field. But Nester's ways were so rough ! The 
muzhik's gray stallion, coming toward the drove, whin- 
nied ; and again the chestnut filly coquettishly replied 
to him. 



316 KHOLSTOMIR, 



VII. 



THIRD NIGHT. 



The moon had quartered ; and her narrow band 
poured a mild light on Kholstomir, standing in the 
middle of the yard, with the horses clustered around 
him. 

"The principal and most surprising consequence 
to me of the fact that I was not the property of the 
count nor of God, but of the equerry,." continued the 
piebald, " was that what constitutes our chief activity 
— the eager race — was made the cause of my banish- 
ment. They were driving Lebedi around the ring; 
and a jockey from Chesmenka was riding me, and 
entered the course. Lebedi dashed past us. He 
trotted well, but he seemed to want to show off. He 
had not that skill which I had cultivated in myself ; 
that is, of compelling one leg instantly to follow on the 
motion of the other, and not to waste the least degree 
of energy, but use it all in pressing forward. Lebedi 
dashed by us. I entered the ring : the jockey did not 
hold me back. 

"'Say, will you time my piebald?' he cried; and 
when Lebedi came abreast of us a second time, he let 
me out. He had the advantage of his momentum, and 
so I was left behind in the first heat; but in the 
second I began to gain on him ; came up to him ia 
the drozhsky, caught up with him, passed beyond him, 



KHOLSTOMIR. 817 

and won the race. They tried it a second time — the 
same thing. I was the swifter. And this filled them 
all with dismay. The general begged them to send me 
away as soon as possible, so that I might not be heard 
of again. ' Otherwise the count will know about it, 
and there will be trouble,' said he. And they sent 
me to the horse-dealer. I did not remain there long. 
A hussar, who came along to get a remount, bought 
me. All this had been so disagreeable, so cruel, that 
I was glad when they took me from Khrenova, and 
forever separated me from all that had been near 
and dear to me. It was too hard for me among them. 
Before them stood love, honor, freedom ; before me 
labor, humiliation, — humiliation, labor, to the end of 
my days. Why? Because I was piebald, and because 
I was compelled to be somebody's horse.'* 



318 KHOLSTOMIR. 



VIII. 
FOURTH NIGHT. 

The next evening when the gates were closed, and 
all was still, the piebald continued thus : — 

"I had many experiences, both among men and 
among my own kind, while changing about from hand 
to hand. I staid with two masters the longest : with 
the prince, the officer of the hussars, and then with an 
old man wlfo lived at Nikola Yavleonoi Church. 

''I spent the happiest days of my life with the 
hussar. 

'' Though he was the cause of my destruction, 
though he loved nothing and nobody, yet I loved him, 
and still love him, for this very reason. 

''He pleased me precisely, because he was hand- 
some, fortunate, rich, and therefore loved no one. 

" You are familiar with this lofty equine sentiment 
of ours. His coldness, and my dependence upon him, 
added greatly to the strength of my affection for him. 
Because he beat me, and drove me to death, I used to 
think in those happy days, for that very reason I was 
all the happier. 

' ' He bought me of the horse-dealer to whom the 
equerry had sold me, for eight hundred rubles. He 
bought me because there was no demand for piebald 
horses. Those were my happiest days. 

" He had a mistress. I knew it because every day 



KHOLSTOMIR. 319 

I took him to her; and I took her out driving, and 
sometimes took them together. 

"His mistress was a handsome woman, and he was 
handsome, and his coachman was handsome ; and I 
loved them all because they were. And Hfe was worth 
living then. 

"This is the way that my life was spent: In the 
morning the man came to groom me, — not the coach- 
man, but the groom. The groom was a young lad, 
taken from among the muzhiks. He would open the 
door, let the wind drive out the steam from the horses, 
shovel out the manure, take off the blanket, begin to 
flourish the brush over my body, and witli the curr}'- 
comb to brush out the scruff on the floor of the stall, 
marked by the stamping of hoofs. I would make 
believe bite his sleeves, would push him with my leg. 

" Then we were led out, one after the other, to drink 
from a tub of cold water ; and the youngster admired 
my sleek spotted coat, my legs straight as an arrow, my 
broad hoofs, my polished flank, and back wide enough 
to sleep on. Then he would throw the hay behind the 
broad rack, and pour the oats into the oaken cribs. 
Then Feofan and the old coachman would come. 

"The master and the coachman were alike. Neither 
the one nor the other feared any one or loved any 
one except themselves, and therefore everybody loved 
them. Feofdn came in a red shirt, plush breeches, 
and coat. I used to like to hear him when, all 
pomaded for a holiday, he would come to the stable 
in his coat, and cry, — 

"'Well, cattle, are you asleep?* and poke me in 
the loin with the handle of his fork ; but never so as to 
hurt, only in fun. I could instantly take a joke, and I 
would lay back my ears and show my teeth. 



320 KHOLSTOMTR. 

*' We had a chestnut stallion that belonged to a pair. 
Sometimes they would harness ns together. This Pol- 
kan could not understand a joke, ^nd was simply ugly 
as the devil. I used to stand iu the next stall to him, 
and feel seriously pained. Feofdn was not afraid of 
him. He nsed to go straight up to him, shout to him, 

— it seemed as though he were going to kick him, — 
but no, straight by, and put on the halter. 

''Once we ran away together, in a pair, over the 
Kuznetskoe. Neither the master nor the coachman 
was frightened ; they laughed, they shouted to the 
people, and they sawed on the reins and pulled up, 
and so I did not run over anybody. 

" In their service I expended my best qualities, and 
half of mj' life. Then I was given too much water to 
drink, and my legs gave out. . . . But in spite of every 
thing, that was the best part of my life. At twelve 
they would come, harness us, oil my hoofs, moisten 
my forelock and mane, and put us between the thills. 

"The sledge was of cane, plaited, upholstered in 
velvet. The harness had little silver buckles, the 
reins of silk, and once I wore a fly-net. The whole 
harness was such, that, when all the straps and belts 
were put on and drawn, it was impossible to make out 
where the harness ended and the horse began. They 
would finish harnessing in the shed. Feofan would 
come out, his middle wider than his shoulders, with 
his red girdle under his arms. lie would inspect the 
harness, take his seat, straighten his kaftan, put his 
foot in the stirrup, get off some joke, always crack 
his whip, though he scarcely ever touched me with it, 

— merely for form's sake, — and cry, 'Now off with 
you ! ' ^ And frisking at every step, I would prance 

1 pushchat. 



KIIOLSTOMIR. 321 

out of the gate ; and the cook, coming out to empty 
her slops, would pause in the road ; and the muzhik, 
bringing in his firewood, would open his eyes. We 
would drive up and down, occasionally stopping. The 
lackeys come out, the coachmen drive up. There is 
constant conversation. Always kept waiting. Some- 
times for three hours we were kept at the door ; 
occasionally we take a turn around, and talk a while, 
and again we halt. 

*' At last there would be a tumult in the hallway ; 
the gray-haired Tikhou, fat in paunch, comes out in his 
dress-coat. ' Drive on ; ' then there was none of that 
use of superfluous words that obtains now. Feofan 
chicks as if I did not know what ' forward ' meant ; 
comes up to the door, and drives away quickly, un- 
concernedly, as though there was nothing wonderful 
either in the sledge or the horses, or Feofan himself, 
as he bends his back and holds out his hands in such 
a way that it would seem impossible to keep it up 
long. 

" The prince comes out in his shako and cloak, with 
a gray beaver collar concealing his handsome, rude!}', 
black-browed face, which ought never to be covered. 
He would come out with clanking sabre, jingling spurs, 
and copper-heeled boots ; stepping over the carpet as 
though in a hurry, and not paying any heed to me or 
to Feofan, whom everybody except himself looked at 
and admired. 

*' Feofan clucks. I pull at the reins, and with a 
respectable rapid trot we are off and away. I glance 
round at the prince, and toss my aristocratic head and 
delicate topknot. The prince is in good spirits ; he 
sometimes jests with Feofan. Feofan replies, half 
turning round to the prince his handsome face, and, 



822 KHOLSTOMIR. 

not dropping his hands, makes some ridiculous motion 
with the reins which I understand ; and on, on, on, 
with ever wider and wider strides, straining every 
muscle, and sending the muddy snow over the dasher, 
off I go ! Then there was none of the absurd way 
that obtains to-day of crying, O ! as though the coach- 
man were in pain, and couldn't speak. ' G'long ! 
Look out there ! ^ G'long ! Look out there,' shouts 
Feofdn ; and the people clear the way, and stand 
craning their necks to see the handsome gelding, the 
handsome coachman, and the handsome barin. . . . 

"I loved especially to outstrip some racer. When 
Feofan and I would see in the distance some team 
worthy of our mettle, flying like a whirlwind, we would 
gradually come nearer and nearer to him. And soon 
tossing the mud over the dasher, I would be even with 
the passenger, and would snort over his head, then even 
with the saddle, with the bell-bow ; ^ then I would already 
see him and hear him behind me, gradually getting 
farther and farther away. But the prince and Feofdn 
and I, we all kept silent, and made believe that we 
were merely out for a drive, and by our actions that 
we did not notice those with slow horses whom we over- 
took on our way. I loved to race, but I loved also to 
meet a good racer. One wink, sound, glance, and we 
would be off, and would fly along, each on his own 
side of the road." ... 

Here the gates creaked, and the voices of Nester and 
Vaska were heard. 

1 podi! belegis. 2 dugd. 



KUOLSTOMIR. 323 



IX. 



FIFTH NIGHT. 



The weather began to change. The sky was over- 
cast ; and in the morning there was no dew, but it was 
warm, and the flies were sticky. As soon as the herd 
was driven in, the horses gathered around the piebald, 
and thus he finished his story : — 

"The happy days of my life were soon over. I 
lived so only two years. At the end of the second 
winter, there happened an event which was most de- 
lightful to me, and immediately after came my deepest 
sorrow. It was at Shrove- tide. I took the prince to 
the races. Atldsnui and Buichok also ran in the 
race. 

" I don't know what they were doing in the summer- 
house ; but I know that he came, and ordered Feofdn 
to enter the ring. I remember they drove me into the 
ring, stationed me and stationed Atlasnui. Atldsnui 
was in racing gear, but I was harnessed in a city sleigh. 
At the turning stake I left him behind. A laugh and 
a cry of victory greeted my achievement. When they 
began to lead me round, a crowd followed after, and 
a man offered the prince five thousand. He only 
laughed, showing his white teeth. 

" ' No,' said he, ' this isn't a horse, it's a friend. I 
wouldn't sell him for a mountain of gold. Good-day, 
gentlemen ! ' ^ 

1 do sviddnya=aurevoir. 



324 KHOLSTOMIR.. 

*■' He threw open the fur robes, and got in. 

"'ToOstozhenka.' 

"That was where his mistress lived. And we 
flew. ... 

" It was our last happy day. We reached her home. 
He called her his. But she loved some one else, and 
had gone off with him. The prince ascertained this at 
her room. It was five o'clock ; and, not letting me be 
unharnessed, he started in pursuit of her, though she 
had never really been his. They applied the knout to 
me, and made me gallop. For the first time, I be- 
gan to flag, and I am ashamed to say, I wanted to 
rest. 

"But suddenly T heard the prince himself shouting in 
an unnatural voice, ' Hurry up ! ' ^ and the knout whistled 
and cut me ; and I dashed ahead again, my leg hitting 
against the iron of the dasher. We overtook her, after 
going twenty-five versts. I got him there ; but. I trem- 
bled all night, and could not eat any thing. In the 
morning they gave me water. I drank it, and forever 
ceased to be the horse that I was. I was sick. They 
tortured me and maimed me, — treated me as men are 
accustomed to do. My hoofs came off. I had ab- 
scesses, and my legs grew bent. I had no strength in 
my chest. Laziness and weakness were everywhere 
apparent. I was sent to the horse-dealer. He fed me 
on carrots and other things, and made me something 
quite unlike my old self, but yet capable of deceiving 
one who did not know. But there was no strength 
and no swiftness in me. 

"Moreover, the horse-dealer tormented me, by com- 
ing to my stall when customers were on hand, and be- 
ginning to stir me up, and torture me with the knout, 

1 valydil 



KHOLSTOMIR. 325 

SO that it drove me to madness. Then he would wipe 
the bloody foam off the whip, and lead me out. 

" An old lady bought me of the dealer. She used 
to keep coming to Nikola Yavlennoi, and she used to 
whip the coachman. The coachman would come and 
weep in my stall. And I knew that his tears had an 
agreeable salt taste. Then the old woman chid her 
overseer,^ took me into the country, and sold me to a 
peddler ; then I was fed on wheat, and grew sicker 
still. I was sold to a muzhik. There I had to plough, 
had almost nothing to eat, and I cut my leg with a 
ploughshare. I became sick again. A gypsy got pos- 
session of me. He tortured me horribly, and at last I 
was sold to the overseer here. And here I am." . . . 

All were silent. The raia.begaii to fall. 

1 priskashchik. 



326 KEOLSTOMIR. 



As the herd returned home the following evening, 
they met the master^ and a guest. Zhulduiba, leading 
the way, cast her eyes on two men's figures : one was 
the young master in a straw hat ; the other, a tall, 
stout, military man, with wrinkled face. The old 
mare gazed at the man, and swerving went near to 
him ; the rest, the younger ones, were thrown into some 
confusion, huddled together, especially when the mas- 
ter and his guest came directly into the midst of the 
horses, making gestures to each other, and talking. 

"Here's this one. I bought it of Voyeikof, — the 
dapple-gray horse," said the master. 

" And that young black mare, with the white legs, — > 
where did you get her? Fine one," said the guest. 
They examined many of the horses as they walked 
around, or stood on the field. They remarked also 
the chestnut mare. 

"That's one of the saddle-horses, — the breed of 
Khrenovsky." 

They quietly gazed at all the horses as they went 
by. The master shouted to Nester ; and the old man, 
hastily digging his heels into the sides of the piebald, 
trotted out. The piebald horse hobbled along, limping 
on one leg ; but his gait was such that it was evident 
that in other circumstances he would not have com- 
plained, even if he had been compelled to go in this 

1 kliozhydin. 



KIIOLSTOMIR. 327 

way, as long as his strength held out, to the world's 
end. He was ready even to go at full gallop, and at 
first even broke into one. 

"I have no hesitation in saying that there isn't a 
better horse in Russia than that one," said the master, 
pointing to one of the mares. The guest corroborated 
this praise. The master, full of satisfaction, walked 
up and down, made observations, and told the story 
and pedigree of each of the horses. 

It was apparently somewhat of a bore to the guest 
to hsten to the master ; but he devised questions, to 
make it seem as if he were interested in it. 

"Yes, yes," said he in some confusion. 

" Look," said the host, not replying to the questions, 
" look at those bgs, look at the . . . She cost me 
dear, but 1 shall have a three-year-old from her that'll 
go!" 

" Does she trot well? " asked the guest. 

Thus they scrutinized almost all the horses, and 
there was nothing more to show. And they were 
silent. 

"Well, shall we go?" 

"Yes, let us go." 

They went out through the gate. The guest was 
glad that the exhibition was over, and that he was going 
home where he would eat, drink, smoke, and have a 
good time. As they went by Nester, who was sitting 
on the piebald and waiting for further orders, the guest 
struck his big fat hand on the horse's side. 

" Here's good blood," said he. " He's like the pie- 
bald horse, if you remember, that I told you about." 

The master perceived that it was not of his horses 
that the guest was speaking ; and he did not listen, but, 
looking around, continued to gaze at his stud. 



328 - KHOLSTOMIR. 

Suddenly, at his very ear, was heard a dull, weak, 
senile neigh. It was the piebald horse that began to 
neigh, but could not finish it. Becoming, as it were, 
confused, he broke short off. 

Neither the guest nor the master paid any attention to 
this neigh, but went home. Kholstomir had recognized 
in the wrinkled old man his beloved former master, the 
once brilliant, handsome, and wealthy Sierpukhovskoi. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 329 



XI. 



The rain continued to fall. In the paddock it was 
gloomy, but at the manor-house ^ it was quite the 
reverse. The luxurious evening meal was spread in 
the luxurious dining-room. At the table sat master, 
mistress, and the guest who had just arrived. 

The master held in his hand a box of specially fine 
ten-year-old cigars, such as no one else had, according 
to his story, and proceeded to offer them to the guest. 
The master was a handsome young man of twenty- 
five, fresh, neatly dressed, smoothly brushed. He was 
dressed in a fresh, loosely- fitting suit of clothes, made 
in London. On his watch-chain were big expensive 
charms. His cuff-buttons were of gold, large, even 
massive, set with turquoises. His beard was ct la 
Napoleon III.; and his moustaches were waxed, and 
stood out as though he had got them nowhere else 
than in Paris. 

The lady wore a silk-muslin dress, brocaded with 
large variegated flowers ; on her head, large gold hair- 
pins in her thick auburn hair, which was beautiful, 
though not entirely her own. Her hands were adorned 
with bracelets and rings, all expensive. 

The samovar was silver, the service exquisite. The 
lackey, magnificent in his dress-coat and white vest 

1 barski dom. 



830 KHOLSTOMIR. 

and necktie, stood like a statue at the door, awaiting 
orders. The furniture was of bent wood, and bright ; 
the wall-papers dark, with large flowers. Around the 
table tinkled a cunning little dog, with a silver collar 
bearing an extremely hard English name, which neither 
of them could pronounce because they knew not English. 

In the corner j among the flowers, stood the pianoforte, 
inlaid with mother-of-pearl.^ Every thing breathed of 
newness, luxury, and rareness. Every thing was ex- 
tremely good ; but it all bore a peculiar impress of pro- 
fusion, wealth, and an absence of intellectual interests. 

The master was a great lover of racing, strong and 
hot-headed ; one of those whom one meets everywhere, 
who drive out in sable furs, send costly bouquets to 
actresses, drink the most expensive wine, of the very 
latest brand, at the most expensive restaurant, offer 
prizes in their own names, and entertain the most 
expensive. . . . 

The new-comer, Nikita Sierpukhovskoi', was a man 
of forty years, tall, stout, bald, with huge mustaches 
and side-whiskers. He ought to have been very hand- 
some ; but it was evident that he had wasted his forces 
— physical and moral and pecuniary. 

He was so deeply in debt that he was obliged to go 
into the service so as to escape the sponging-house. He 
had now come to the government city as chief of the 
imperial stud. His influential relations had obtained 
this for him. 

He was dressed in an army kittel and blue trousers. 
His kittel and trousers were such as only those who 
are rich can afford to wear ; so witli his Hnen also. His 
watch was English. His boots had peculiar soles, as 
thick as a finger. 

* iticrusti. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 331 

Nikita Sierpiikhovskoi* had squandered a fortune of 
two millions, and was still in debt to the amount of one 
hundred and twenty thousand rubles. From such a 
course there always remains a certain n^omentum of 
life, giving credit, and the possibility of living almost 
luxuriously for another ten j^ears. 

The ten years had already passed, and the momentum 
was finished ; and it had become hard for him to live. 
He had already begun to drink too much ; that is, to 
get fuddled with wine, which had never been the case 
with him before. Properly speaking, he had never 
begun and never finished drinking. 

More noticeable in him than all else was the rest- 
lessness of his eyes (they had begun to wander) , and 
the uncertainty of his intonations and motions. This 
restlessness was surprising, from the fact that it was 
evidently a new thing in him, because it could be seen 
that he had been accustomed, all his life long, to fear 
nothing and nobody, and that now he endured severe 
sufferings from some dread that was thoroughly alien 
to his nature. 

The host and hostess^ remarked this, exchanged 
glances, showing that they understood each other, 
postponed until they should get to bed the consider- 
ation of this subject ; and, evidently, merely endured 
poor Sierpukhovskoi. 

The sight of the young master's happiness humiliated 
Nikita, and compelled him to painful envy, as he 
remembered his own irrevocable past. 

"You don't object to cigars, Marie?" he asked, 
addressing the lady in that peculiar tone, acquired 
only by practice, full of urbanity and friendliness, but 
not wholly satisfactory, — such as men use who are 

1 khoeyain and khoxyaika. 



332 KHOLSTOMIR. 

familiar with the society of women not enjoying the 
dignity of wifehood. Not that he could have wished to 
insult her : on the contrary, he was much more anxious 
to gain her good-will and that of the host, though he 
would not for any thing have acknowledged it to him- 
self. But he was already used to talking thus with 
such women. He knew that she would have been 
astonished, even affronted, if he had behaved to her 
as toward a lady. Moreover, it was necessary for him 
to preserve that peculiar shade of deference for the ac- 
knowledged wife of his friend. He treated such women 
always with consideration, not because he shared those 
so-called convictions that are promulgated in news- 
papers (he never read such trash), about esteem as 
the prerogative of every man, about the absurdity of 
marriage, etc., because all well-bred men act thus, and 
he was a well-bred man, though inclined to drink. 

He took a cigar. But his host awkwardly seized a 
handful of cigars, and placed them before the guest. 

" No, just see how good these are ! try them.*' 

Nikita pushed away the cigars with his hand, and 
in his eyes iSashed something like injury and shame. 

" Thanks," — he took out his cigar-case, — "try 
mine." 

The lady was on the watch. She perceived how it 
affected him. She began hastily to talk with him. 

" I am very fond of cigars. I should smoke myself 
if every bod}' about did not smoke." 

And she gave him one of her bright, kindly smiles. 
He half -smiled in reply. Two of his teeth were gone. 

"No, take this," continued the host, not heeding. 
"Those others are not so strong. Fritz^ hringen Sie 
noch eine Kasten^** he said, " dort zivei.'* 

The German lackey brought another box. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 833 

'' Do you like these larger ones? They are stronger. 
This is a very good kind. Take them all," he added, 
continuing to force them upon his guest. 

He was evidently glad that there was some one on 
whom he could lavish his rarities, and he saw nothing 
out of the way in it. Sierpukhovskoi began to smoke, 
and hastened to take up the subject that had been 
dropped. 

"How much did you have to go on Atldsnui?" 
he asked. 

"He cost me dear, — not less than five thousand, 
but at all events I am secured. Plenty of colts, I tell 
you!" 

"Do they trot? " inquired Sierpukhovskoi. 

" First-rate. To-day Atldsnui's colt took three 
prizes : one at Tula, one at Moscow, and one at Peters- 
burg. He raced with Voyeikof's Voronui. The ras- 
cally jockey made four abatements, and almost put him 
out of the race." 

" He was rather raw ; too much Dutch stock in him, 
I should say," said Sierpukhovskoi. 

"Well, but the mares are finer ones. I will show 
you to-morrow. I paid three thousand for Dobruina, 
two thousand for Laskovaya." 

And again the host began to enumerate his wealth. 
The mistress saw that this was hard for Sierpukhovskoi, 
and that he only pretended to listen. 

" AVon't you have some more tea?" asked the 
hostess. 

" I don't care for any more," said the host, and he 
went on with his story. She got up ; the host de- 
tained her, took her in his arms, and kissed ber. 

Sierpukhovskoi smiled at first, as he looked at them ; 
but his smile seemed to them unnatural. When his 



334 KHOLSTOMIR. 

host got up, and took her in his arms, and went ont 
with her as far as the portUre^ his face suddenly 
changed ; he sighed deeply, and an expression of 
despair took possession of his wrinkled face. There 
was also wrath in it. 

" Yes, you said that you bought him of Voy^ikof," 
said Sierpukhovskoi, with assumed indifference. 



KHOLSTOMIR. 335 



XII. 

The host returned, and smiled as he sat down oppo- 
site his guest. Neither of them spoke. 

"Oh, 3'es ! I was speaking of Atlasnui. I had a 
great mind to buy the mares of Dubovitsky. Nothing 
but rubbish was left." 

"He was burned out," said Sierpukhovskoi', and 
suddenly stood up and looked around. He remem- 
bered that he owed this ruined man twenty thousand 
rubles ; and that, if burned out were said of any one, 
it might by good rights be said aboat himself. He 
began to laugh. 

Both kept silence long. The master was revolving 
in his mind how he might boast a little before his guest. 
Sierpukhovskoi was cogitating how he might show that 
he did not consider himself burned out. But the 
thoughts of both moved with difficulty, in spite of 
the fact that they tried to enliven themselves with 
cigars. 

"Well, when shall we have something to drink?" 
asked the guest of himself. 

"At all events, we must have something to drink, 
else we shall die of the blues," said the host to 
himself. 

"How is it? are you going to stay here long?" 
asked Sierpukhovskoi. 

" About a month yet. Shall we have a little lunch? 
What say you? Fritz, is every thing ready? " 



336 KHOLSTOMIR. 

They went back to the dining-room. There, under 
a hanging lamp, stood the table loaded with candles 
and very extraordinary things : siphons, and bottles 
with fancy stoppers, extraordinary wine in decanters, 
extraordinary liqueurs and vodka. They drank, sat 
down, drank again, sat down, and tried to talk. 
Sierpukhovskoi grew flushed, and began to speak 
unreservedly. 

They talked about women : who kept such and such 
an one ; the gypsy, the ballet-girl, the sonbrette.^ 

"Why, you left Mathieu, didn't you?" asked the 
host. 

This was the mistress who had caused Sierpu- 
khovskoi such pain. 

*' No, she left me. O my friend,^ how one remem- 
bers what one has squandered in life ! Now I am 
glad, fact, when I get a thousand rubles ; glad, fact, 
when I get out of everybody's way. I cannot in 
Moscow. Ah ! what's to be said ! " 

The host was bored to listen to Sierpukhovskoi. He 
wanted to talk about himself, — to brag. But Sier- 
pukhovskoi also wanted to talk about himself, — about 
his glittering past. The host poured out some more 
wine, and waited till he had finished, so as to tell him 
about his affairs, — how he was going to arrange his 
stud as no one ever had before ; and how Marie 
loved him, not for his money, but for himself. 

"I was going to tell you that in my stud" . . . 
he began. But Sierpukhovskoi interrupted him. 

"There was a time, I may say," he began, "when 
I loved, and knew how to live. You were talking just 
now about racing ; please tell me what is your best 
racer," 

1 Frantsushenka. ' akh^ brat, brother. 



KEOLSTOMIR. 337 

The host was glad of the chance to tell some more 
about his stud, but Slerpukhovskoi again interrupted 
him. 

"Yes, yes," said he. "But the trouble with you 
breeders is, that you do it only for ostentation, and 
not for pleasure, for life. It wasn't so with me. I 
was telling you this very day that I used to have a 
piebald racer, with just such spots as I saw among 
your colts. Okh! what a horse he was! You can't 
imagine it: this was in '42. I had just come to 
Moscow. I went to a dealer, and saw a piebald 
gelding. All in best form. He pleased me. Price? 
Thousand rubles. He pleased me. I took him, and 
began to ride him. I never had, and you never had 
and never will have, such a horse. I never knew a 
better horse, eitlier for gait, or strength, or beauty. 
You were a lad then. You could not have known, but 
you may have heard, I suppose. All Moscow knew 
him." 

" Yes, I heard about him," said the host reluctanth' ; 
*' but I was going to tell you about my "... 

"So you heard about him. I bought him just as he 
was, without pedigree, without proof; but then I knew 
Voy^ikof, and I traced him. He was sired by Liu- 
beznui I. He was called Kholstomlr.^ He'd measure 
linen for you ! On account of his spotting, he was 
given to the equerry at the Khrenovski stud ; and he 
had him gelded, and sold' him to the dealer. Aren't 
any horses like him anymore, friend! Akh! "What 
a time that was I Akh! vanished youth!" he said, 
quoting the words of a gypsy song. He began to get 



1 Kholstomir meAns & cloth measurer: eugsresting the greatest distance 
from linger to linger uf the outstretched arms, and rapidity iu accomplishing 
the motion. 



338 KHOLSTOMIR. 

wild. " Elch ! that was a golden time ! I was. twenty- 
five. I had eighty thousand a year income ; then I 
hadn't a gray hair; all my teeth like pearls. . . . 
Whatever I undertook prospered. And yet all came 
to an end." . . . 

'' Well, you didn't have such lively times then," said 
the host, taking advantage of the interruption. " I tell 
you that my first horses began to run without " . . . 

''Your horses! Horses were more mettlesome 
then" ... 

" How more mettlesome? " 

" Yes, more mettlesome. I remember how one time 
I was at Moscow at the races. None of my horses 
were in it. I did not care for racing ; but I had 
blooded horses, General Chaulet, Mahomet. I had my 
piebald with me. My coachman was a splendid young 
fellow. I liked him. But he was rather given to 
drink, so I drove. ' Sierpukhovskoi,' said they, ' when 
are you going to get some trotters?' — 'I don't care 
for your low-bred beasts,^ the devil take 'em ! I have 
a hackdriver's piebald that's worth all of yours.' — 
'Yes, but he doesn't race.' — 'Bet you a thousand 
rubles.' They took me up. He went round in five 
seconds, won the wager of a thousand rubles. But 
that was nothing. With my blooded horses I went in 
a troika a hundred versts in three hours. All Moscow 
knew about it." 

And Sierpukhovskoi began to brag so fluently and 
steadily that the host could not get in a word, and sat 
facing him with dejected countenance. Only, by way 
of diversion, he would fill up his glass and that of his 
companion. 

It began already to grow light, but still they sat 

1 literally, wiwsAiA:^. 



KHOLSTOMTR. 339 

there. It became painfully tiresome to the host. He 
got up. 

" Sleep, — let's go to sleep, then,'' said Sierpukhov- 
skoi', as he got up, and went staggering and puffing to 
the room that had been assigned to him. 



The master of the house rejoined his mistress. 

" Oh, he's unendurable. He got drunk, and lied 
faster than he could talk." 

" And he made love to me too." 

'' I fear that he's going to borrow of me." 

Sierpukhovskoi threw himself on the bed without 
undressing, and drew a long breath. 

''I must have talked a good deal of nonsense," he 
thought. '' Well, it's all the same. Good wine, but 
he's a big hog. Something cheap about him.^ And I 
am a hog myself," he remarked, and laughed aloud. 
''Well, I used to support others: now it's my turn. 
I guess "^fhe Winkler girl will help me. I'll borrow 
some money of her. He may come to it. Suppose 
I've got to undress. Can't get my boot off. Hey, 
hey! " he cried; but the man who had been ordered 
to wait on him had long before gone to bed. 

He sat up, took off his kittel and his vest, and some- 
how managed to crawl out of his trousers ; but it was 
long before his boots would stir : with his stout belly 
it was hard work to stoop over. He got one off ; he 
struggled and struggled with the other, got out of 
breath, and gave it up. And so with one leg in the 
boot he threw himself down, and began to snore, filling 
the whole room with the odor of wine, tobacco, and 
vile old age. 

1 kupicheskoe, merchant-like. 



340 KHOLSTOMIR. 



XIII. 

If Kholstomir remembered any thing that night, it 
was the frolic that Vaska gave him. He threw over 
him a blanket, and galloped off. He was left till 
morning at the door of a tavern, with a muzhik's 
horse. They licked each other. When it became light 
he went back to the herd, and itched all over. 

" Something makes me itch fearfully," he thought. 

Five days passed. They brought a veterinary. He 
said cheerfully, — 

" The mange. You'll have to dispose of him to the 
gypsies." 

"Better have his throat cut; only have it done 
no-day." 

The morning was calm and clear. The herd had 
gone to pasture. Kholstomir remained behind. A 
strange man came along ; thin, dark, dirt}', in a kaftan 
spotted with something black. This was the scaven- 
ger. He took Kholstomir by the halter, and without 
looking at him started off. The horse followed quietly, 
not looking round, and, as always, dragging his legs 
and kicking up the straw with his hind-legs. 

As he went out of the gate, he turned his head 
toward the well ; but the scavenger twitched the halter, 
and said, — 

" It's not worth while." 

The scavenger, and Vaska who followed, proceeded 




.341 

to a depression behind the brick barn, and stopped, 
as though there were something peculiar in this most 
ordinary place ; and the scavenger, handing the halter 
to Vaska, took off his kaftan, rolled up his sleeves, 
and produced a knife and whetstone from his boot-leg. 

The piebald pulled at the halter, and out of sheer 
ennui tried to bite it, but it was too far off. He 
sighed, and closed his eyes. He hung down his lip, 
showing his worn yellow teeth, and began to drowse, 
lulled by the sound of the knife on the stone. Only 
his sick and swollen leg trembled a little. 

Suddenly he perceived that he was grasped by the 
lower jaw, and that his head was lifted up. He opened 
his eyes. Two dogs were in front of him. One was 
snufling in the direction of the scavenger, the other 
sat looking at the gelding as though expecting some- 
thing especially from him. The gelding looked at 
them, and began to rub his jaw against the hand that 
held him. 

" Of course they want to cure me,'' he said : "let 
it come!" 

And the thought had hardly passed through his 
mind, before they did something to his throat. It hurt 
him ; he started back, stamped his foot, biit restrained 
himself, and waited for what was to follow. . . . 
What followed, was some liquid pouring in a stream 
down his neck and breast. He drew a deep breath, 
lifting his sides. And it seemed easier, much easier, 
to him. 

The whole burden of his life was taken from him. 

He closed his eyes, and began to droop his head, — 
no one held it. Then his legs quivered, his whole 
body swayed. He was not so much terrified as he was 
astonished. . . . 



342 KffOLSTOMlR. 

Every thing was so new. He was astonished ; he 
tried to run ahead, up the hill, . . . but instead of 
this, his legs, moving where he stood, interfered. He 
began to roll over on his side, and while expecting 
to make a step he fell forward, and on his left 
side. 

The scavenger waited till the death-struggle was 
over, drove away the dogs that were creeping nearer, 
and then seized the horse by the legs, turned him over 
on the back, and, telling Yaska to hold his leg, began 
to take off the hide. 

" That was a horse indeed ! " said Vaska. 

*'If he'd been fatter, it would have been a fine 
hide," said the scavenger. 

That evening the herd passed by the hill ; and those 
who were on the left wing saw a red object below them, 
and around it some dogs busily romping, and crows 
and ha^ks flying over it. One dog, with his paws on 
the carcass, and shaking his head, was growling over 
what he was tearing with his teeth. The brown filly 
stopped, lifted her head and neck, and long sniffed the 
air. It took force to drive her away. 

At sunrise, in a ravine of the ancient forest, in 
the bottom of an overgrown glade, some wolf-whelps 
were beside themselves with joy. There were five of 
them, — four about of a size, and one little one with 
a head bigger than his body. A lean, hairless she- 
wolf, her belly with hanging dugs almost touching 
the ground, crept out of the bushes, and sat down in 
front of the wolves. The wolves sat in a semi-circle 
in front of her. She went to the smallest, and lower- 
ing her stumpy tail, and bending her nose to the 
ground, made a few convulsive motions, and opening 



KHOLSTOMIR. 343 

her jaws filled with teeth she struggled, and disgorged 
a great piece of hoise-flesh. 

The larger whelps made a movement to seize it; 
but she restrained them with a threatening growl, and 
let the little one have it all. The little one, as though 
in anger, seized the morsel, hiding it under him, and 
began to devour it. Then the she-wolf disgorged for 
the second, and the third, and in the same way for 
all five, and finally lay down in front of them to rest. 

At the end of a week there lay behind the brick barn 
only the great skull, and two shoulder-blades ; all the 
rest had disappeared. In the summer a muzhik who 
gathered up the bones carried off also the skull and 
shoulder-blades, and put them to use. 

The dead body of Sieipukhovskoi, who had been 
about in the world, and had eaten and drunken, was 
buried long after. Neither his skin nor his flesh nor 
his bones were of any use. 

And just as his dead body, which had bee% about 
in the world, had been a great burden to others for 
twenty years, so the disposal of this body became 
only an additional charge upon men. Long it had 
been useless to every one, long it had been only a 
burden. But still the dead who bury their dead found 
it expedient to dress this soon-to-be-decaying, swollen 
body, in a fine uniform, in fine boots ; to place it in a 
fine new coffin, with new tassels on the four corners ; 
then to place this new coffin in another, made of lead, 
and carry it to Moscow ; and there to dig up the 
bones of people long buried, and then to lay away 
this mal-odorous body devoured by worms, in its new 
uniform and polished boots, and to cover the whole 
with earth. 



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